So It Begins
by supernaturalbuffy
Summary: So how did John become the great hunter that we know and love today? And did he really want his sons involved in the hunt? Wee!chester fic.
1. Time

SO IT BEGINS

Chapter 1 "Time"

Summary: So how did John become the great hunter that we all know and love today? And did he really want to have his sons involved?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Hey guys. Okay, so new story. I thought I'd try my hand at a prequel and that ever popular plot line called the Wee!chester. I hope you guys like it.

Spoilers: Um….not sure exactly. Not too many really. I may fudge on the timeline a little but I'll try and hold as close as possible. By the way, thank you _Super-wiki _website for the awesome timeline aspect. If you don't know about this site, go check it out. Lots of info about this show. www(dot)supernaturalwiki(dot)com

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November 2, 1984

It was early. The sun was just starting to rise and the sky began to lighten with shades of pinks and purples in preparation for the dawn.

John twisted his hands along the steering wheel of the Impala and blinked a few times trying to clear the grit from his tired eyes. He and Bobby had finished a job in Oklahoma earlier in the night and they had decided to just head out for home instead of waiting until morning.

John chuckled slightly at the thought of 'home'. Since Mary's death, there hadn't really been a place for him and his boys to call 'home' for a while as they hop-scotched across the country not wanting to stay in one place for too long. But now…

John's thoughts turned to his lovely wife, Mary and his heart ached at the thought of her. She had been so beautiful in every sense of the word. How she used to smile at his lame jokes. How she used to read to Dean when he was just a baby to get him to go to sleep. The smell of her hair after she had showered and her hair was still wet.

John blinked again to clear his eyes and tried not to admit that it was probably more than him just being tired this time making the road blur in front of his eyes. When he realized what today was he had wished that he hadn't. He had taken this hunt with Bobby hoping that it would take long enough to keep his mind off what today was and with any hope he would still be hunting when this day ended, but he had had no such luck.

As they passed a road sign with the word Lawrence on it he gritted his teeth and shifted in his seat uncomfortably trying hard not to think how close he was to the place he _used_ to call home.

"If you want to stop, we can."

John looked at the passenger in surprise and then grimaced slightly before turning back to look out the windshield. "I thought you were asleep," John grumbled as he gripped the wheel a little tighter feeling stupid for thinking that. No good hunter ever really let his guard down, and he only hoped that he would become half as good as Bobby someday.

Bobby sat up from his slouched position in the passenger seat and pulled his hat back from his eyes. "Nah, can't sleep when I can hear your mind grinding away from here."

John just smiled slightly.

"But seriously, if you want to we can stop," Bobby said as he turned to look at John.

"What are you talking about?" John feigned innocent hoping that Bobby would just let it drop. Just the thought of being this close to where everything had started was making John's sadness grow, he didn't know if he could stand actually going to her grave.

Bobby just scoffed and shook his head slightly. "You think I'm _stupid_ or just plain dumb? I know what day this is," Bobby said as he turned to look out the window

John blinked in surprise and then glanced at Bobby before looking back at the road. "How-"

"John, I've known you for…almost a year? I think I know you well enough to know when Mary died," Bobby said matter-of-factly. "Besides, you'd be a complete idiot to be this close and not go. _Especially_ today."

John swallowed hard and shifted in his seat. He wasn't a man to show his emotions, not since Mary had died, but he was completely floored by Bobby's offer. "Bobby, I-"

"You're welcome." Bobby cut him off before John had a chance to make a fool of himself. "Besides…I could use a breather. My legs are starting to cramp."

John just gave a slight chuckle at Bobby's attempted excuse for the stop and gunned the engine a little bit more.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lawrence, Kansas

John kneeled down and brushed away the few weeds that had grown up around the gray stone and ran his fingers over the engraving of Mary Winchester.

Tears welled in his eyes and he smiled sadly as he placed the small bouquet of flowers that he had gotten from a flower shop in front of the grave. A tear fell down his face and he ran his fingers over the stone again. "I miss you," he whispered as he smoothed away a little dust from the front of the stone.

He knew it was stupid to feel this way about her grave. Hell, she wasn't even buried here. There had been nothing left of her body after the fire had died, but still he found some small comfort in knowing there was at least some place his boys could come years later if they wanted to. He finally cleared his throat and stood slowly. Quickly swiping at the few tears that had fallen, he made sure his face was dry before turning back to the car and Bobby.

When he finally did, what he saw brought a smile to his face. A woman stood next to Bobby talking softly to the other hunter and he could tell that Bobby wasn't sure what to make of her.

As he got closer he could hear Bobby's bewildered voice. "Wait, how did you-"

John just chuckled and shook his head. "Don't worry, Bobby. She's one of the good guys."

Both people turned to look at him and he just stood there with his hands in his pockets and a half smile on his face. "Hello, Missouri."

The pretty black woman gave a small smile and walked towards him. She was a little on the plump side, but John could still see that she had her womanly figure and had been quite a looker in her younger years. "I knew you'd be here today," she said as she walked the last few steps to stand in front of John. "I guess I know who's responsible for getting it through that thick head of yours that you should come."

She nodded back towards Bobby and the other hunter just looked on in confusion when John just gave a little laugh before letting this strange woman hug him.

"How are the boys?" she asked as she pulled away.

John just looked down at his feet not answering and Missouri frowned in understanding. "Give it time. He'll come around sooner or later," she said softly and placed a hand on his shoulder.

John just gave her a sad little smile and glanced up at her before returning his gaze to his feet.

"Well," she said letting go of John's shoulder and stepping back slightly. "You two better get going," she said succinctgly and began to walk back to her car which sat further back along the road.

Bobby just looked between Missouri and John with a strange look not sure what to make of the exchange.

"And do me a favor," Missouri called back without even turning. "Call your boys." She continued walking. And soon the two hunters found themselves alone in the cemetery.

"Who the hell was that?" Bobby asked with a little bit of awe in his voice.

John just laughed and shook his head as he pulled his keys from his pocket. "That, Bobby, was Missouri Mosley."

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The phone was ringing and Jim quickly dried his hands on the dish towel as he hurried to pick up the phone. "Hello?" he said into the receiver slightly distracted as he reached to pick up another plate to dry.

"Jim?"

Pastor Jim Murphy stopped and looked up. "John? Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Where's Bobby?" he asked hurriedly instantly worried that something was wrong. He knew that they were going to go out on the hunt last night, and he also knew that John didn't usually check in unless something had happened.

As his mind began to whir with all the possibilities of what might have happened, Jim could hear John give a slight chuckle through the receiver and he stopped in confusion.

"Everything's fine, Jim," John said knowing exactly what his friend Jim had probably been thinking. "We just stopped for a bit on our way back and I thought I'd call."

Jim released a breath had hadn't realized he had been holding and leaned back against the counter at hearing this. "So, the hunt went well?"

John nodded even though he knew Jim couldn't see it. "Yeah, nothing we couldn't handle. We should be there by this evening if the weather holds." He looked out towards the pumps where Bobby was filling the car with gas before asking his next question. "So, uh…how are the boys?"

He wished that he was there already. He missed both boys terribly, and the thought that he wasn't with them, especially today, just made him feel guilty. He loved his boys, but every time that he looked at them he could only see Mary.

Jim looked out into the living room to where his wife was playing with little Sammy on the floor.

Sammy giggled as he threw his ball and then clapped his hands in joy as it hit the floor and bounced towards the couch.

"They're doing fine, John. Sam's playing with Melinda right now in the living room. He's been starting to get into trouble though. I never thought I would be glad for the days when he was just crawling."

John just gave a sad smile. There were times he regretted hunting and having to leave his sons behind for their own safety, and one of the things he hated the most was not being able to be with his boys and see them grow up. It seemed each time he came back from a hunt they had changed so much, even if it had only been a day or two. He had remembered the day that Jim had called him so excited that he hadn't even been able to speak for a few moments until John had finally gotten frustrated enough and ordered him to calm down. When Jim had finally explained what he was so excited about, John's heart had given a little stab of pain at the thought that he had missed Sam's first steps. And it was just one more thing to think that the supernatural had taken from him and his family.

"How's Dean?" he asked as he toed at the tar peaking through a crack in the asphalt at his feet dreading what he knew Jim would say.

Jim sighed and turned to look out the window at the backyard wishing he had something else to say about John's oldest. "The same," he said sadly before looking down at the sink. "He seems to do okay with Sammy, but…"

"He still hasn't said anything," John finished for his friend before sighing in frustration and running a hand across his beard. He had been afraid of that.

Jim could hear his frustration and frowned slightly. "Don't worry, John. It'll work itself out with time."

"It's been a year, Jim," John said heatedly and then regretted his anger when Jim didn't say anything. "I'm sorry. It's just…I don't know what to do anymore," John said quietly as he looked out over the cars in the lot and wished with a sort of desperation for the simplicity of the lives of the people he watched filling their cars with gas and yet he knew that since he had learned about what went bump in the night he or his boys would never know that simple life again. He watched Bobby finish pumping gas and head towards the building and knew that he would have to wrap this up.

Jim understood John's frustration. He knew that John had tried everything, even thinking about taking Dean to see a psychologist, but Jim also knew that with what John did and what had happened that the only thing that would heal Dean would be time. "I know, John. Just-"

Jim broke off his thought as he felt a small tug on his pant leg and he looked down. There stood Dean looking up at him with those big green eyes and messy blonde hair, and Jim just looked at him for a moment in surprise. He hadn't even heard the boy approach, let alone even had an idea that the boy was around and he couldn't help the small breath of a chuckle that left his lips at the idea that a five year old had just snuck up on him, a wizened hunter. Like father, like son he supposed.

"What is it, Dean?" he asked.

The boy just looked up at him and then pointed to the phone.

Jim just stared at the boy for a moment and then spoke into the receiver without ever taking his eyes off of Dean. "John…I think someone wants to talk to you."

John's attention snapped back to the phone at Jim's words and he waited with baited breath as he heard the rustling noise on the other end and he imagined Jim handing Dean the phone and Dean struggling for a moment with the heavy receiver as he put it to his ear.

"Daddy?" Came a quiet voice just above a whisper and John almost dropped the receiver.

"Dean?"

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November 6, 1983

It had been raining for almost four days. Heavy rain with big, fat drops that drenched everything and painted the sky a dreary gray color, and it didn't appear that there was in end in sight.

John stared out the window at the rain falling and couldn't help but think that the world was in mourning too knowing that it had lost one of its better people when Mary had died.

It had been a long day, with the funeral and then the gathering afterwards, and John just felt exhausted and numb. He hadn't seen the need for a service for Mary since there was no body to bury, but everyone had insisted that it would be for the best. 'To give closure,' is what they had said. Whatever that meant. Closure for whom? To him, Mary's death was still a gaping wound and the thought of having to sit through a funeral and listen to people talk about how much they were going to miss her wasn't going to help close that wound at all. If nothing it actually was like pouring salt on it.

He sat on the couch at his friend Mike's house where they had been staying since the fire and stared out at the rain feeling too emotionally drained to do anything else. People milled around the room after the funeral talking and every once in a while sneaking looks over at the grieving family as if they were an accident on the side of the road.

In one arm, he held Baby Sammy who was asleep for the moment arms and legs dangling loosely and his little bowtie lips pulling in and out slightly with each gentle breath. John had been surprised when he had been relatively quiet during the service only crying a few times. For the last four days he had cried almost constantly and there had been nothing that John did that could console his youngest son. So to see him finally quiet had been almost a blessing to the weary father. Shortly after the service had ended, Sammy had finally seemed to have reached his limit and he had tuckered himself out enough that he finally fell asleep a few hours ago.

John's hands reflexively curled around Sam's small body and he smiled slightly down at Sam's peaceful face. Movement against his side made him turn and he tightened his other arm around his other son, Dean's, small frame who had curled himself into his father's side shortly after they had gotten back to the house.

The Winchester men looked oddly out of place in black suits, and ties even though everyone else was dressed in the same. It just didn't seem to suit them, especially Dean with his unruly blonde hair and sad, blank expression. Dean sat huddled against his father's side with his legs pulled up close to his chest and his little hands tangled in his father's white dress shirt never moving except to watch as people milled around the room.

John worried about his oldest son as he looked down at the mop of golden locks. Dean had not said anything since the night that his mother had died. Not since John had told him what had happened.

A lump grew in John's throat at the memory of having to tell his oldest son that his mommy wasn't coming back when Dean had asked where she was.

"_But where did she go?"_ the little boy had asked with sadness in his voice.

John had knelt down in front of Dean when he asked where his Mommy was and had pulled him close. He had tried to explain to him that she had to go away to live with God, and that they wouldn't see her for a really long time. But somehow, he felt that it was so inadequate to tell this to a four year old boy when all he had known was that his mother had been there before he went to sleep and then was gone when he woken up. As he had held Dean, he had almost burst into tears himself when he saw big crocodile tears form in Dean's eyes.

"_But why? Doesn't she love us anymore?"_ Dean had cried long and hard begging for his mommy to come back and all John could do was wrap him in his arms until he finally cried himself to sleep.

The next day when he awoke, Dean didn't say a word and he hadn't said a word since.

John hugged his son a little closer to him and Dean snuggled even deeper into his father's side burying his face in his side and he felt a warm wetness where Dean's face rested. He could feel his son's body shudder as he sobbed quietly not wanting to show his sadness to everyone and John swallowed hard to keep his own tears from falling. He tried to comfort his son the best he could by rubbing his back in small circles and soon the sobbing quieted to just a few sniffles. He wished that he could do more, but he knew that the only thing he could do was give him time. He just hoped that Dean would be able to bounce back eventually.

John sighed and looked around the room at all the people who were still there and sighed. Most of them looked at him and his sons with pity in their eyes and John grew angry with each saddened look that passed his way.

"_What a tragedy,"_ he could hear them whisper._ "What will happen to the boys now that their mother is gone? Have you heard what he's been saying happened?"_

Of course none of them would say it to his face, but he knew that everyone wondered what exactly had happened.

Even John wondered what had happened. He knew what he had seen, but…he also knew that it was impossible. When he had tried to explain that his wife was trapped on the ceiling before the fire had started, the police had asked him if he had been drinking and when he said no they had just looked at him like he was crazy.

Well screw them. He knew what had happened...he thought. Maybe. He sighed again dropping his gaze back to his boys and just wished that this was all over and he could finally be left alone with his boys.

His friend and business partner, Mike and his wife Kate, had been gracious enough to let them stay at their place after the fire, but John knew that even though Mike had said stay as long as they like, he knew they were starting to out-live their welcome. He knew that it couldn't be easy going from only two people to having two young boys and a grieving widow take up space in your house.

Maybe tomorrow he would try to find someplace else to stay for a while. Get back into a routine. If not for himself, then at least for Sam and Dean.

Kate came over to the couch with a plate of food and sat down in the chair next to John. "How are you holding up?" she asked with concern in her eyes as she surveyed the three grieving men.

The sight of the Winchester men so broken and lost made her heart ache. Especially little Dean. He seemed so small and helpless with sorrow barely eating and the fact that he hadn't spoken since the fire made her even more worried. She knew that he, like his father, was hurting and was worried that none of them would ever be the same again.

"We're okay," John said his voice deep and rumbly from unuse. Like his eldest son, John had become almost mute since Mary passed away. The light that used to shine in his eyes had faded and the man who used to talk your arm off had gotten to where he might say one or two words and only if asked a question.

"Do you want me to take Sammy for a while so that you and Dean can eat something?" She sat the plate down on the coffee table and watched as Dean peaked out from his father's side with red rimmed eyes at her and then at the plate of food.

John hesitated for a moment trying to decide what to do.

Kate could see his struggle and gave a sad little smile. "It's okay," she said quietly. "I can sit here with you while I hold him if you want."

John looked at her trying to judge if he wanted to relinquish his hold on his youngest son to his best friend's wife and then gave himself a slight shake. What was he doing? He knew he was being irrational about it, but Sammy had almost died along with his wife in the fire. And even though he knew it sounded crazy, he felt like if he let him go he would lose him forever. Finally he nodded his approval and she moved to take Sam from his arms.

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Dean sat up a little and watched as Kate gently took Sam from John's arm and John could feel him tense slightly when Kate stood up and moved back to the chair.

John knew that Dean had become very protective of his little brother since their mother's death and understood the little boy's apprehension at how far Sam seemed away from their small family. He knew that Dean was protective of Sam before the fire making sure that he had everything he ever needed, but after that night the two brothers had become inseparable. John had even found Dean asleep in Sam's crib a few nights ago with his arm thrown protectively over his baby brother.

Kate sat down in the chair next to the couch rocking Sam slightly in her arms and she watched as John and Dean picked at the plate of food. Neither one had much of an appetite, but John tried to coax Dean to eat something knowing that the boy must be hungry.

A piece of fruit. A half of sandwich. John would eat a few bites and then Dean would eat a few before John would have to eat just a little bit more. Finally, John was satisfied and took the plate from Dean before leaning back again on the couch. Dean moved around for a moment before curling up next to John again wrapping his hands in his father's coat once again.

John threw his arm around him and began to rub his arm in soothing strokes as Dean stared out at the room not really seeing anything. He didn't feel really much of anything either. His mother was gone and she wasn't coming back. Dean wondered if he had done something wrong to make her go away, but his Daddy had told him that it was nothing he had done. She did love him, very much, but she couldn't be there right now. His eyes ticked over to where Sam lay in Kate's arms as she rocked him slightly.

He leaned forward slightly so he could see Sam's face to make sure that he was sleeping soundly and once he saw how calm Sam's face was and the way he sucked slightly at his lower lip, he decided that maybe Sammy was okay for now.

He still remembered his dad putting his baby brother in his arms that night and telling him to get Sam out of there. He had been so scared as the roar of the fire filled his ears and the heat stung his skin, but he had done what his father had told him and now he wanted to keep Sam safe always. He needed to keep Sam safe. He didn't want him to go away like his mother had.

He rested his head wearily against his dad's side as a few more people came over to talk to them and he looked up at them for a brief moment. Everyone was so sad, and they kept giving him these "looks". Dean wasn't sure what they meant, but he didn't like it very much. He just wished that they would all go away and leave them alone. Besides, what did they know about his Mommy? It wasn't like they really knew her.

He tuned out the people's words and just looked out the window behind where Kate was sitting. The rain fell in heavy sheets, and Dean could hear the patter of rain against the window and the roof as a slight rumble of thunder cut though the murmur of voices of all the people in the room. As he continued to listen to the rain he smiled slightly as he pressed his ear against his father's side. His father's deep voice rumbled through his chest and Dean could feel the vibrations against his cheek. Soon he began to drift and he could feel his eyelids grow heavy as he was comforted by the sounds. He tried to fight it not wanting to go to sleep until he was sure Sammy would be safe, but he couldn't help it. His eyelids dipped lower and soon he lost the fight.

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The people finally said their final good-byes and with a sorrowful look took their leave.

John sat back slightly on the couch feeling drained in the only way sorrow could make you and sighed slightly.

He looked over at Kate holding Baby Sam and smiled sadly at her when she met his eyes.

She smiled back slightly and she nodded slightly in Dean's direction. "I think he's asleep," she whispered to John.

John looked down to see his little boy sound asleep still holding onto his arm and he couldn't help but smile sadly at the sight. He gently slipped Dean's hands from his arm and lifted him gently to where he was lying in John's lap with his head leaning more against his shoulder.

Dean nuzzled slightly into John's shoulder and he smiled slightly at how innocent Dean looked when he slept.

He excused himself and took Dean upstairs to their room.

As John carried him up the stairs, he marveled at how light he felt in his arms. Dean had always been small for his age, but the last few days had been hard on him and he felt lighter than before. John would have to make sure that he ate and he silently prayed that in time Dean would come through this all right. He couldn't imagine what it was like for him to lose his mother like he had and at such a young age. In some ways, he was thankful that Sammy was so young. He wouldn't remember Mary like Dean would. Yes, John and Dean would tell him about her. But he wouldn't have the bone deep sadness he and Dean would carry for the rest of their lives from the loss. As he carried Dean into their room, John had the feeling it was going to be a very long and hard road for all of them and he just hoped that he had the strength to see them through it.

John laid Dean on his bed before gently pulling his shoes and jacket off and then slipping him under the covers. Dean let out a small sigh as he tilted his head towards his father but never woke. John brushed his blonde bangs out of his face and knelt down to give him a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep tight, sport. Pleasant dreams,' he whispered and then left the room.

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A/N: So there's the first chapter. Let me know if you guys like it by sending me a review. And yes, I don't mind bad reviews. They help me make my writing better. So go on, push that button.

A/N2: For those of you who have been reading my other stories, don't worry I haven't forgotten them. It just seems that my muse went on vacation and didn't leave a forwarding address for those right now. Hopefully, she'll be back soon. Catch you guys later.


	2. Hopes and Nightmares

SO IT BEGINS

Chapter 2 "Hopes and Nightmares"

Summary: So how did John become the great hunter that we all know and love today? And did he really want to have his sons involved?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Hello. First off, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed. I'm glad that you all like it so far. And thanks to supernatfem76 for the little critique. Every little bit helps. So here's the next chapter. Hope you like.

A/N2: Okay, I know this is probably a 'duh' and feel free to slap me upside the head if you think this is too much of a 'duh' thing; but when I say Present Day in this story I mean November, 1985. Thus, a year after Mary was killed by the demon.

Spoilers: Um….not sure exactly. Not too many really. I may fudge on the timeline a little but I'll try and hold as close as possible. By the way, thank you _Super-wiki _website for the awesome timeline aspect. If you don't know about this site, go check it out. Lots of info about this show. www(dot)supernaturalwiki(dot)com

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November 15, 1983

_John heard the scream tear through the air and was instantly awake. _

"_Mary?" _

_He scrambled to his feet and up the stairs as fast as his sleep addled brain would allow._ Oh god. What happened? Was it, Sam? Please, please, don't let it be Sam. _He tore down the hall and into the nursery to find it...empty. _

_What the... _

_He walked over to Sam with his heart beating hard against his ribs and tried to get the bad feeling he had to go away. _

_Sam laid happily in his crib cooing and John reached out to touch him just to make sure that everything_ was _okay._ Was it a dream?

_Something dripped on the bed next to Sam's pillow, and then on his hand and he jerked slightly before staring at it in confusion. _What the-

_He watched his son's eyes travel to the ceiling as he cooed softly and John felt his stomach drop at the sight. Something wasn't right. _

_He hesitantly looked to the ceiling dreading what he might find and gasped in shock as he saw his beloved Mary pinned to the ceiling her stomach slit and her contorted in pain. _

"_No! Mary!" He looked into her eyes and saw confusion and fear. _

"_Why, John? Why did you let me die?" _

_Then the fire exploded around her and consumed her screams._

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"NO!"

John shot up in bed as he gasped for air. His heart thudded in his ears and gulped in big breaths of air as he tried to make sense of where he was.

Blinking, he looked around the dark room seeing the baby crib in the corner close to his bed and the other bed where Dean slept to his left. His heart started to calm slightly as things finally started to make sense and he realized that it had been just a dream. He was in the motel room they had gotten after deciding to move out of Mike's place. He hesitantly looked at the ceiling before sighing again in relief. There was no fire. No Mary. Just the dark and water-spotted ceiling

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind as his heart rate came back down to normal.

It was only a dream.

Finally getting his heart and breathing back under control, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and scrubbed at his hair for a moment before looking up to look at the other bed where Dean was sleeping.

His son was sitting up in bed looking at him as if asking if he was okay.

John smiled slightly before getting up and going over to sit down on the edge of his son's bed.

Dean's eyes followed him through the darkness until John laid a big hand on his head and scuffed his hand through Dean's long hair. "It's okay, buddy. It was just a dream. Daddy's fine"

Dean relaxed a little and let his father guide him back onto the bed before pulling the covers up to his chin. He curled up on his side facing his Dad and his knees brushed against John's knee as Dean blinked sleepily up at him.

"Go to sleep, Tiger. I'll be okay," John whispered and patted Dean on his shoulder.

Dean nodded slightly as his eyes started to drift closed and John smiled slightly at the sight.

He waited until he was sure Dean was asleep again before getting up and heading for the bathroom dragging his feet tiredly across the scraggly carpet. He checked on Sam to make sure he was still sleeping before quickly closing the door so he wouldn't disturb the boys and went to the sink.

He leaned heavily on the edge just hanging his head in exhaustion before turning on the water and splashing some cold water on his face. He ran his hand over his stubbled cheeks and chin with a weary hand and grimaced slightly at the feel.

He hadn't shaved since Mary had died and he was still trying to get used to the feel of the coarse whiskers. Before…he had shaved every day because Mary had loved the feel of his skin right after he had shaved and now. Without her…there didn't seem to be any point.

He looked at his shadowed face in the mirror and knew if the light was on he would see dark circles under sad, weary eyes. Even in the dark, he could tell his complexion was pale and he sighed as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the mirror in exhaustion. It had been thirteen days since Mary had died, and there hadn't been a night since that he hadn't woken with some kind of nightmare. He knew he had to get some sleep soon or he wasn't going to be good for doing anything, but it seemed like every time he closed his eyes he would see her.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst was that Dean was also having nightmares.

His poor boy would wake up screaming scared to death and would cling to his father shaking and wide eyed but never once uttering a word about what the dreams were about. When it was time for bed, John would sit with Dean for hours trying to get him to go to sleep. His eldest would cling to him long after Sam had finally went to sleep and fight for all he was worth to stay awake even though they both knew he was exhausted. He would refuse to lay down shaking his head emphatically when John would try to move him to his bed never once letting go of his father's shirt as if it were a lifeline and that if he just tried a little harder then maybe the dreams wouldn't get him this time. John would hold him and rock him as Dean squirmed and tapped his foot or worried his lip as he stared out at nothing trying not to go to sleep until exhaustion would finally win and he would pass out.

That had been one reason, John had finally decided to move out of Mike's was because between him and Dean having nightmares about that night, neither of them were getting much sleep. And Mike definitely didn't need to be woken up at least once every night by a screaming child.

This had to stop if for no other reason than for his boys.

As John reached for the towel to dry his face, he frowned at the thought of his oldest son. He still wasn't talking and that frightened John. His son used to be so full of life and energy and would talk non-stop. He and Mary had jokingly wished they could bottle up some of that energy and save it for when they needed a boost. Especially after Sam had been born, but now…he seemed completely shut down. He clung to his father whenever anybody was around and hardly ever let Sam out of his sight as if he was afraid that his little brother might disappear if he didn't watch him every second and that wasn't normal.

Maybe he _should_ take Dean to see a therapist like everyone kept saying. But John wasn't sure if that would help, and on some deeper level it terrified him to think what his son might have seen that night. What if he had seen how Mary died?

He knew what everyone thought about him. That he couldn't accept how Mary had died, so instead he made up this wild story about her being pinned to the ceiling where the fire started. He knew how it sounded, but he also knew what he had seen. When everything had quieted down after that night, he had looked down at his hand and noticed that he still had the smeared blood drop on his hand from where Mary's blood had dripped. He had scrubbed his hand almost raw trying to get rid of it after that.

But even though he knew what he had seen, he didn't know exactly what had happened. And he was afraid that if Dean started saying something along the same lines that people might think that John wasn't fit to be a father and take his boys away from him. And he couldn't live if that happened. They were the only thing he had left.

John sighed tiredly as he threw the towel down on the sink and then walked back into the main room his eyes immediately scanning the room out of habit and landing on first Dean's bed and then….

He felt a chill slide up his spine, and his stomach felt like it filled with lead.

Where was Dean?

He quickly hurried over to Dean's bed again making sure that he wasn't bundled up in the covers to where he couldn't see him and realized that he wasn't seeing things. Dean wasn't there. The pale white sheets shone brightly in the moonlight that slipped in between the closed curtains and John started to feel panic grip his insides.

His heart skipped a beat and then trip hammered against his ribs as he frantically searched around the room. Where was he? His eyes scanned the room trying to see if maybe he had gotten up for a drink of water or something, but he didn't see his son anywhere.

He was about to call out when he heard his youngest giggle and gurgle softly in his crib and his eyes were drawn to the crib for a moment. He went to the crib's edge as his eyes continued their frantic search around the room as his mind worked overtime trying to figure out where his son might have gone. Sam cooed again and John finally looked down at his youngest to see what might have woken Sam when he noticed something else in the crib.

With a puzzled look on his face he looked again1 and then smiled in relief.

There was Dean, curled up next to his brother with one arm draped protectively over Sammy's chest fast asleep.

John briefly wondered how Dean had managed to crawl in there without tipping over the crib but then tears came to his eyes as he continued to stare at his two sons. His heart ached for his oldest boy and at how much he had lost in such a short life.

In ways he was grateful Sammy was so young. He wouldn't remember Mary when he grew up unless he and Dean told him about her.

But for Dean…he knew that he had lost his Mommy. He had known what it was like to have a _mother_. To know her sweet voice, hear her lull-a-bys, to have had time to love her as only a child could. And in a blink of an eye, that was gone.

He reached into the crib to stroke Dean's hair feeling the soft curls in his hand and felt a lump build in his throat when Dean turned his face slightly towards his hand and wrapped his arm a little tighter around Sam.

He decided right there that he wouldn't move Dean back to his bed tonight. If he felt safer with Sammy, then so be it.

"Sweet dreams, Tiger," he whispered smoothing Dean's hair away from his face.

He then reached over and rubbed Sam's belly slightly as his youngest started to drift off to sleep again safe in his big brother's arms and then he also went to lie down to go to sleep.

As he lay down and pulled the covers up over his chest, he stared at the crib where his two sons slept and made a vow to figure out what had really happened to their mother and if possible to somehow make things right. With that he drifted off to sleep.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

LAWRENCE, KS PRESENT DAY

Bobby watched as John talked on the phone from the distance of the car and couldn't help but wonder what he was saying. He knew that he was talking to Jim about his boys and after watching John for a few more minutes, he saw John look up at him and then turn away again as if protecting the phone from Bobby's prying eyes. Suddenly, Bobby felt like even from this distance he was intruding and quickly turned away.

As his gaze roamed the surrounding area trying to give John some privacy, he focused on the people going in and out of the gas station marveling at how…_normal_ they seemed to be. To them it was just another day of the week where they got gas, went to work, and then went home to their wife and 2.5 kids. Thankfully, they were blissfully unaware that the things their kids imagined went bump in the night really did go bump, and usually tried to take a bite out of you in the process of said bump.

Bobby sighed slightly and shook his head. _Ah, to be normal. _

As he leaned against the trunk of the Impala, he tried to remember what it had been like to have such a normal life and found it kind of hard. It seemed like it had been lifetimes since he had traded having a family for having fellow hunters, and traded reading fiction for reading ancient texts that could maybe help save his butt some day on a hunt. Now, his life was all about the hunt. But if he could forget how he had gotten into this business and go back to just being 'normal,' he would do it in a heartbeat.

Suddenly, Bobby became aware that John was walking towards him and he turned his eyes back to powerhouse of a man and frowned slightly in concern.

John was heading towards him with a slightly dazed look on his face nearly walking in front of a car pulling away from the pumps and Bobby stood to meet him with a sudden weight in his stomach.

"John? What is it? Are the boys okay?" he asked worriedly watching as his friend came closer.

John finally stopped in front of Bobby and he just nodded slightly.

Bobby sighed slightly in relief and then a puzzled frown came over his face. "Then what is it?"

John was silent for a moment just staring off into space and Bobby wasn't sure if he was going to answer. "Dean spoke."

He said it so quietly that it took Bobby a moment to realize what he had said and when he did his eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Dean…spoke?" he said hesitantly not sure if he had heard him right.

John just nodded and finally looked at Bobby and Bobby could now see the spark of light in John's eyes and the excitement that danced in his eyes as a small smile crossed his lips. "He finally spoke, Bobby."

Both men were silent for a moment and then Bobby grinned and clapped a hand on John's shoulder not sure what else to do.

John gave a small laugh and then so did Bobby, and before they knew what they were doing, both of them were laughing at the good news and hugging while the other people in the gas station just stared at them in confusion.

After a few moments they broke away still smiling broadly with only a few hints of laughter before Bobby finally sighed in relief. "Well, good." He then gave his friend a playful smile. "It's about time that boy got to jabbering," Bobby said giving John's shoulder a light shove before heading towards the driver's side of the car.

John just laughed again and shook his head at his friend's turn of words as he walked to the passenger side and got in. "Oh don't worry," John said as Bobby turned the ignition and the Impala purred to life. "It used to be you couldn't shut him up for anything. I swear," John stopped for a second lost in the memory and shook his head. "Sometimes, Mary and I used to actually _sigh_ in relief when he went to bed because it was finally quiet."

Bobby just chuckled and was happy that Dean had picked this day of all days to start talking again. To see John this happy…well, he had _never_ see John this happy. It just seemed to make the day a little more bearable.

As they pulled out onto the street and headed towards the highway, they both sat in a happy silence just glad that even though this was a day of sadness in John's life, at least there was this one good thing that came out of it.

When Bobby reached the open road, he pressed down on the accelerator a little harder and hoped that maybe if he sped just a little, he could cut the time that John and his boys was apart by hopefully an hour or so. And any police officer who dared to stop them could just shove it.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

COLD SPRING, MN

Even though he didn't know how to read the calendar or know that his mother had died on this day a year ago, Dean just somehow knew that this was an important day.

A sad day.

The last time his Daddy had been home, he had seemed sad. Well…sadder than he usually was and he had noticed when he hugged Dean goodbye before leaving for his latest trip that his grip was just a little bit tighter than usual.

Dean had tried to ask what was wrong as he watched his Dad pull away, but he just couldn't seem to get his words to come out.

It had been so long since he had spoken. Not since that night. The night where his whole world had been turned upside down and for the first time in his life he had truly felt fear. Fear that he might actually lose his family. And since then he just couldn't seem to get words past the lump of fear and sadness that he seemed to have in his throat constantly.

But today, when he had heard Pastor Jim talking to his Daddy on the phone…he just couldn't keep them in any longer. He wanted his Dad. He _needed_ him. Here. Now.

He gripped the phone tightly listening to his father's happy voice and felt a slight smile slide across his face at the sound. He had done that. He had made his Daddy happy. "When are you coming home?" he asked quietly. His voice was raspy, almost a whisper, and his throat hurt slightly from not having used his voice for so long. But he knew that he needed to ask that question.

"_Soon, kiddo. I should be home before you go to bed." _

Dean just nodded and cradled the heavy receiver in his hand as he swayed back and forth slightly feeling the sadness that was a constant anymore start to creep back up from where he had pushed it away. "I miss you," he said softly and then he was suddenly aware that there was movement beside him and he looked up to see Pastor Jim was still standing there looking at him with a slightly stunned look on his face. He held the older man's stare for a moment before dropping his eyes again to the floor and waited for his Dad's answer.

"_I know," John said with a slight catch in his voice. "I miss you too, Tiger. But I'll be home soon. You just take care of Sammy until I get there and then I'll make sure that we can stay together for a while, okay?"_

Dean just nodded slightly and sniffled slightly as he tried to fight the tears that were welling at the back of his eyes. He couldn't start crying. Not now. It seemed like he had been crying for what seemed like forever and he couldn't do that now. Not today. That would make his Daddy sad.

"_Okay, kiddo, can you give the phone back to Pastor Jim and I will see you tonight okay?" _

Dean nodded again. "Okay," he barely whispered and then handed the receiver back to Pastor Jim silently before turning and heading into the other room.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Pastor Jim stood there dumbly holding the receiver as Dean walked away before finally bringing the phone to his ear. "John?"

He listened to his friend in kind of an awed silence as he watched Dean walk up to where Sammy was playing and sit himself down next to his brother like it was just any other day and that he hadn't just spoke his first words in a year.

"Okay. So you'll be home this evening?"

He listened a little bit more as he watched Dean play with Sam and his wife, Melinda, and couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"Okay. I'll let the boys stay up until you get here. Just…drive safe okay?"

He got John's reply and then hung up the phone.

For a moment he just stood there watching as Dean rolled the ball between his brother and Melinda and watched as Sammy laughed and clapped his hands together when the ball went spinning away from his brother's hands and bounced off the wall before shooting away towards the other end of the room.

Dean just looked at his brother for a moment in silence before getting up to go get the ball much to little Sammy's delight.

Jim took a breath and then headed into the room.

Melinda looked up at him with a questioning look, and Jim just smiled back letting her know that everything was okay.

Dean returned a moment later holding the ball and Jim clapped his hands together before rubbing them back and forth slightly. "You know what? Why don't we go out for lunch today?" he said making both Melinda and Dean pause and look at him with kind of a funny look on their faces. "I think we deserve it. And maybe, afterwards….we can get some ice cream."

Dean's eyes lit up at that and he gave a slight smile.

"How about it, Dean? Do you want to do that?" Jim asked hoping that the boy would say something, but he also knew that if Dean wasn't ready to talk he wasn't going to pressure him into it either.

Dean just looked at Pastor Jim for a moment and knew that he was hoping that he would speak, but could also see the understanding in his eyes if didn't and Dean was thankful for that. He just smiled more looking down at Melinda and Sammy before looking back up and nodding enthusiastically.

Pastor Jim gave a small smile and nodded himself. "Good. Then it's settled."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Around noon, Delilah watched as the Pastor and his wife left the house with the two children.

She watched as the older boy, Dean, jumped down the stairs with enthusiastic energy before running towards the car sitting in the driveway. The woman carried the younger one, Sam, in her arms as the Pastor hurried to catch up with blonde headed boy.

As the man buckled Dean into the back seat of the four-door sedan, his wife helped settle the toddler in the car seat next to his brother. She could hear Sam's giggles from where she was parked before the doors were closed and they pulled out of the driveway and started down the street.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly before finally turning the ignition and pulling away to follow making sure that she wouldn't be spotted.

She gritted her teeth in frustration as she carefully followed not wanting her prey to know that she was following and then sighed in frustration. She was getting tired of waiting. It seemed like she had been waiting for ever but in fact it had only been a week since she had been told where she could find the hunter called Winchester.

She had watched as John and Bobby left for the hunt and then observed the others as they went about their everyday lives trying to get down their habits and schedules. If her plan was going to work, she had to know what her prey was going to do before they knew what they would do.

As she watched the Pastor pull into the parking lot of a local restaurant she gave a pained smile and felt a flutter of excitement wash through her.

Soon, she would be done waiting. Soon, it would be time to act.

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A/N: Okay, so new chapter. Hope you liked it. Tell me by sending me a review. Yup, that's it. Just…hit that little button there. I promise nothing will go boom.  Anyway, thanks for reading and I'll catch you soon.

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	3. Truths

SO IT BEGINS

Chapter 3: "Truths"

Summary: So how did John become the great hunter that we all know and love today? And did he really want to have his sons involved?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Thanks to all for reading and more importantly thank you to all of you who sent me a review. I love hearing what the readers think of my stories. Every little bit helps. So here's the next chapter. Hope you like.

A/N2: Okay, once again Present Day in this story means November, 1984. Thus, a year after Mary was killed by the demon.

Spoilers: Um….not sure exactly. Not too many really. I may fudge on the timeline a little but I'll try and hold as close as possible. By the way, thank you _Super-wiki _website for the awesome timeline aspect. If you don't know about this site, go check it out. Lots of info about this show. www(dot)supernaturalwiki(dot)com

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November 17, 1983

"Hey, John, how's it going?"

John looked up to see his friend Mike standing at the edge of the car he was working on and looking at him. He put down his wrench and nodded towards the car. "Doin' okay. Looks like it's got a busted radiator, it'll probably take a while to change out." He wiped his greasy hands on a rag and contemplated what he needed to do next to the car.

Mike nodded as he looked at the engine to see the damage himself. "Looks about right. Do you need any help?"

John just shook his head and set down the rag. "Nah, shouldn't be that hard." John was actually looking forward to the hard work of putting the new radiator in. He'd just come back to work yesterday and was trying to get back into the groove of his life.

Anything that felt 'normal' was good.

"Okay. Holler if you need help," Mike said hesitantly and turned away. He paused and John looked at him curiously. Mike turned back with a questioning look in his eyes. "So how're things going with you and the boys? Everything all right?"

It was John's turn to look uncomfortable. It seemed like he had been asked these questions a million times since Mary's death, but it still felt raw in his mind. "Okay. Just…trying to adjust, you know?"

Mike nodded again knowingly. "How are Dean and Sam doing?"

John sighed slightly as he looked out the door to the street beyond. "They're okay. Dean's still not talking though. He's been having these nightmares. Hell, _I'm_ having nightmares about it. I can't blame a four-year-old for having them."

Mike frowned slightly at this news. "Maybe you should get some help? May someone to talk to? I mean, at least for Dean. He should be talking by now don't you think?"

John gave a slight nod in agreement. "I know. I just…I thought maybe he needed more time, you know? I don't think he saw anything, but…"

Mike arched an eyebrow in question. "What would he have seen, John?"

John just looked at Mike for a moment. He had tried to explain what had happened that night with Mary being pinned on the ceiling while the fire consumed her, but he knew that nobody believed him. "Nothing. Just…the trauma of the fire and all. Losing his mother."

Mike nodded but still held John's gaze with a bit of mistrust in his eyes. "John, you do know it was just a fire, right? You don't…still believe that something else happened to Mary? It was just an accident." He hesitated slightly before saying the last as if he was trying to reassure himself that his friend did actually believe what he knew to be true.

John held his gaze and could see a touch of fear in Mike's eyes as he waited for his response and knew that he better play along or he might find himself being too closely examined by some shrink. He knew how it sounded. Just…plain ass crazy. He knew this, but he also couldn't seem to think that he could have made up that he had seen Mary on the ceiling before the fire started either. I mean, he had seen some weird shit during the war, but this…this was different.

"Yeah. No, I mean…I know it was just a fire. I just…I just worry about my boys that's all." John could visibly see Mike relax at that statement and he clapped John on the shoulder.

"Okay. Well, if you need anything. Let us know. You know me and the Missus will do anything we can for you, right?"

John nodded his thanks and turned back to the car with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. As he worked, he let his mind wander and think about what Mike had said. Mike was his friend and business partner; but he also knew that since the fire, people looked at him differently. He had heard some of the whispers going around town about him. That maybe it hadn't been an accident, or that maybe the loss of his wife had made him go crazy, or maybe he just didn't want to believe it was an accident. Any way he looked at it though, he knew he would have to be careful or they might try to take his boys away from him and he just couldn't handle that. They were all he had left of his precious Mary.

He finally couldn't take it anymore and threw his wrench down and headed towards the office area. He needed something else to keep his mind busy. He reached for the phonebook and accidently knocked the area-wide book to the floor. He swore softly as he tried to calm his frazzled nerves and leaned over to grab the offending book off the floor. As he reached down, he froze and then frowned slightly at what section it had opened up at. Fortune tellers and psychics?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

November 17, 1983

Later that night after putting the boys down for the night, John sat at the little table and watched Dean sleep.

He seemed so small in the big bed. His tousled blonde curls the only thing visible above the bulky covers from where he sat across the room. He took another swig of his beer and then rubbed his tired eyes as he sighed out of exhaustion.

It had been a really long day, and after what he had learned earlier that evening it had seemed to make the day weigh even heavier on his shoulders.

He dropped his hand from his eyes and then rested it on the gun that sat on the table near him. After what the psychic had told him, he had gotten the gun out of storage and brought it back to the motel to make sure that if anything tried to get to his boys they would have to go through him first. His stomach twisted in fear as he remembered what she had said. In just a few words, she had confirmed what he had already thought to be true.

That he wasn't crazy. And the idea that whoever- No…_what_ever had killed Mary was still out there and could possibly come back for the rest of his family, made his blood boil. He had to protect his boys. And if it was the last thing he did, he would find some way to track the thing down and make sure that it would never hurt his family again.

In that moment, as he brandished his gun and then looked to where his boys slept peacefully, he made a vow. He didn't care what it took or what people thought of him, he would find Mary's killer and put that sonuvabitch out of his misery.

He set the gun back down on the table and took another swig of beer before setting the bottle back down and looking at the other object sitting on the table in front of him.

When he had come back from Vietnam, he had had so much anger and misery built up inside that it had almost torn him apart. The things that he had seen and had done…all in the name of protecting his country. John just shook his head at the memories. And then to come back to find out that his country thought what he had done had been wrong and that in most of his fellow citizen's eyes he was a killer instead of a hero had just made him bitter and angry. For the longest time after that he couldn't find his peace. He felt shut down and like he might go crazy, but he didn't know who to trust with what he knew or what he had seen.

But then he had met Mary. She had known him before he went to war and could see past the anger to see what he had lost while at war. His innocence but more importantly his faith in what was good. When everyone else had given up on his, she had been the one that had encouraged him to talk about what had happened. She kept pushing him to talk about it; and when he couldn't talk about it, to write it down.

"_No sense in bottling all those feelings up._ _It'll only explode on you later."_

She had said as she pushed a leather bound journal into his hands one day after he had continually tried to push her away for almost a week hoping that eventually she would leave it alone. It wasn't that he _couldn't _talk about it with her. It was just that he was afraid of what he might do if he _did_ let his feelings show. Or what she would think about what he had done to survive.

"_If you need to write it down and then burn it, just…please, do something, John. Otherwise this is going to kill, and I would rather that you didn't."_ Mary had taken his hand and his heart that night and he knew from that exact moment that he would eventually marry her.

It seemed so long ago since that day and yet it was still fresh in his mind as if it had just happened yesterday. He took another swig from his beer and then sighed heavily as he pulled the brown leather journal towards him. He opened the front cover and looked sadly at the inside flap. He had placed the picture of him and Mary standing outside their house with the two boys there, and he fingered the edge of it lovingly before picking up the pen lying beside it.

_November 17, 1983, _

_I went to Missouri, and I learned the truth._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Cold Spring, Mn Present Day

Today had been a good day. Well, at least better than she had thought it would be. Melinda watched as Dean and Sammy play and smiled slightly at the sight. She had been surprised when Jim had announced that they were going to go out for lunch, but then he had pulled her aside later and told her that Dean had spoken and she knew the reason behind the surprise trip.

She watched as Dean helped Sam figure out one of the new toys he had gotten the other week, twisting and poking all the little buttons and knobs to make different noises or actions happen and she marveled at how fast both boys would figure out a new toy or gadget. Even at five years old, she could tell that Dean was going to be the more mechanical of the two. Just the other day, Jim had found him out in the garage with an old radio that they hadn't had a chance to throw out and he had been trying to figure out how to take it apart to see how it worked. And in that way, he was completely his father. Always trying to figure out a puzzle.

But she also knew that Dean had a sensitive side to him. An unstated emotional connection to whomever he saw. And when he looked at his father or his brother, Melinda could just imagine his mother looking at them through his eyes. He was the heart of the small family. And in many ways, Dean represented the fact that all of the Winchester men were still broken from the loss of both mother and wife.

"Hey, sweetie."

Melinda startled slightly at the sound of Jim's voice and she looked to see a small smile creep across his face before he quickly hid it when she glared at him. "I, uh, was just going to tell you I need to go over to the church for a little while. Will you be okay with the boys?"

Melinda smiled a little and looked back over at Dean and little Sammy. "Oh, I think we'll be fine. How long do you think you will be?"

"Probably a couple of hours. Don't worry. I'll be back in time for supper." He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips before saying goodbye to the boys and headed towards the door.

Dean watched as Jim left before looking back to Melinda and she could see his silent question and possible touch of fear floating in those big expressive eyes.

"Don't worry. He'll be okay, Dean."

Dean chewed his lip for a moment and then nodded before turning back to see that Sammy had figured out how to open one of the doors on the new toy.

Melinda's heart broke at the sight of the two boys. Even in their incredibly short lives they had both seen way too much. Especially, Dean. The carefree innocence and trust that most children held was no longer an option for the five year old. Especially being the son of a hunter and Melinda felt a pang of sorrow for that loss. No child his age should have to worry about whether someone he loved would come back or that they could die and he couldn't do a thing to stop it.

Sammy worked at turning one of the knobs and the toy made a melodic beeping a popping noise. He giggled slightly before turning the knob again and that in turn made Melinda smile.

She had always wanted kids, but for all their dreaming and planning they had never been able to have any. She had been heartbroken when the doctor had told her that it wouldn't be possible and she knew that something inside of Jim had died that day too. But after she had had time to grieve that loss she had realized that maybe God had had a different plan for them.

Soon after that Jim had stumbled across the supernatural and had gotten involved with the war against evil and somewhere in the back of her mind she had been slightly grateful that she _hadn't_ brought a child into such a frightening world of monsters and demons.

And then she had met John Winchester and his two sons.

The doorbell rang and she looked at the door and then back to the two boys with a slight frown on her face. Dean had stopped and was looking at her and the door with probably the same thought she had. _Now who on Earth could that be?_ "Watch Sammy, Dean. I'll just be a minute."

She got up and went to the door. She checked to make sure the wards were up and the shotgun in the umbrella holder was ready just in case before opening the door slightly to see who it was. When she recognized who it was she smiled slightly and opened the door further. "Well, Bonny what are you doing here?"

Her next door neighbor stood on the front porch with a wrapped plate in her gloved hands. "I just noticed that Jim went over to the church and I thought I'd come over to talk. Is this a good time?"

Melinda nodded and motioned her inside. Once inside Bonny shivered slightly and stamped her feet to get the rest of the snow off. "Brrr, I can't believe how cold it's gotten here recently. I mean, I know this is Minnesota, but this cold even for here."

Melinda laughed slightly at that. "Yeah, well I guess it's good we like snow right?"

Bonny just scoffed at that comment as she removed her coat. "Yeah, right, sometimes I _dream_ about what it must be like to live in California for a change. All that sun and sand, and the best part... No. Snow."

Melinda laughed again and took Bonny's coat from her to put in the closet. "So what'd you bring us?"

"Oh, I had made some cookies and thought…maybe the boys might like some." She looked around to see where Dean and Sam might be and Melinda looked in towards the living room.

"It's kind of close to supper, but I guess we can see," Melinda said and headed back into the other room. "Dean, look who's come to see us."

Dean had been watching the doorway from the moment Melinda had left to see who had come and recognized the voice immediately. Bonny was nice. She usually came over when Pastor Jim was gone or sometimes in the afternoon when her husband was out at work to talk with Melinda and play with the boys. He grinned slightly and waved to her before hesitantly going back to play with Sammy.

"Hey, Dean," Bonny said as she came further into the room and sat down on the couch with Melinda. "Would you like a cookie? They're chocolate chip."

Dean hesitated for a moment looking between Bonny and Melinda. Melinda nodded slightly and he relaxed slightly before coming to get a cookie.

"If you think Sammy would eat one you can take one for him too," Melinda said giving Dean a smile. He was still so incredibly wary of anyone and would usually hide when people came by that she encouraged him when he was this open.

He nodded a little and took a second cookie.

"He's still not talking?" Bonny asked sadly before offering Melinda a cookie and then frowned when Melinda shook her head no.

Melinda trusted Bonnie, she was one of her best friends; but she also knew that Dean speaking was an incredibly big deal and she wasn't about to force Dean's hand on the issue. When he was comfortable talking to others she would let him but until then mum was the word.

"So where's their Dad this time?"

"Oh, he had to go out of town for a business trip. He should be back this evening though."

"I don't know Melinda. Sometimes I wonder about him," Bonnie whispered not wanting Dean or Sam to overhear.

"No, Bonnie, it's okay. Trust me, he's a good man. And you can definitely tell that he loves his boys." Melinda had never told Bonnie about what had happened to John's wife let alone that he hunted the supernatural. Heck, unless someone actually saw something supernatural for themselves they hardly ever believed that it was real. So she could forgive her friend for thinking that John might be a little shady.

They chatted for a little while as Dean and Sam ate their cookies and then continued playing with their toys.

Dean listened absent-mindedly as the two women talked and kept an eye on Sammy as he played with a toy car. They had found a car that matched what his Daddy drove, a black Chevy Impala, and it was a very rare time that Dean didn't play with the car at least once a day. He was racing the car around the room going over the chairs and other toys when he started to feel a little sleepy. He blinked slightly and slowed his pace as he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He blinked again more slowly as he looked over at Sammy who was lying on the floor by his toys fast asleep. He thought it peculiar that Sammy was asleep but at the moment couldn't figure out why it was strange. He sat down on the floor and leaned back to rest on his heels. He yawned slightly and then frowned. He shouldn't be this sleepy. It wasn't even supper time yet and he had wanted to stay up to see his Daddy before he went to bed.

Melinda noticed Dean slow his pace and didn't think too much of it until he had sat down and then wavered slightly. "Dean?"

Dean slowly turned to look at Melinda and blinked again finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

"Dean, are you okay?" Melinda was getting a little concerned. She looked over to Sam and frowned. "Sammy?" The little boy didn't even respond and she could feel her pulse kick up a notch.

Dean slumped to the side no longer able to stay sitting and struggled to get his eyes to focus. Maybe if he just lay down for a little bit.

"Oh, God, Dean?" Melinda went to get up off the couch and suddenly felt a hand on her arm. She looked down at it dumbly before looking up at Bonny's face. "Bonny, what-"

"Don't worry, they'll be okay. I just thought it would be easier this way than to have them fighting me later." She pulled a wicked looking knife from her purse and brandished it in front of Melinda's face.

A shiver of fear worked its way up Melinda's spine as she looked at the glinting blad and her mouth felt suddenly dry. "Please, don't hurt them."

Bonn smiled and the sight gave Melinda the idea of a wolf about ready to pounce on an unsuspecting sheep. "Oh, don't worry. I won't hurt them just yet. No, for right now, they're just bait. It's their father that I really want."

Melinda swallowed dryly. "Why? What do you want with, John?"

"Let's just say…John's been making a name for himself, and I'd like to know what makes the man tick. That is before I gut him like a fish and kill his boys."

Anger flared in Melinda and she wrenched her arm free from Bonny's grasp and reached for the knife trying to disarm the crazed woman. The fight took them to the floor where they both wrestled over the knife kicking and scratching at each other and trying to gain the upper hand.

Melinda dug her nails into Bonny's arm and Bonny gave a scream of pain before big clumps of skin started to tear away from her arm leaving behind a sticky residue. Melinda pulled her hand back in horror as pieces of skin came away in her hands, and for a second she lost her concentration.

That second was all the time Bonny needed and she quickly flipped Melinda over onto her back and straddled her legs. Melinda fought back but knew that she had lost her advantage. She struggled with the knife trying to keep Bonny from plunging it into her chest and she gritted her teeth with the effort. As Bonny pressed down with all her weight, Melinda's arms trembled with exertion and she panted slightly as the blade came closer and closer to her chest. With a last bit of strength she wrenched the knife to one side dodging the blade as it descended towards the floor and then straight-armed Bonnie in the throat.

Her friend fell off to the side clutching at her damaged throat and Melinda scrambled away looking around wildly for a weapon. Any kind of weapon.

Her mind latched onto the memory of the shotgun in the umbrella stand and she ran for the front hall. She had almost reached it when Bonnie clipped her from behind and she flailed uselessly as she tripped and rammed into the front door. She groaned as she turned around and then felt like her eyeball was going to explode when Bonnie hit her with a right cross and she hit the was before sliding down to lie in a heap on the floor. She blinked several times trying to clear the stars from her eyes and then cried out in pain as she was dragged back up by her hair to look up at Bonny's face.

"What…are…you?" she rasped out.

Bonny stood over her breathing heavily from the fight sweating beading her brow and her hair had pulled free of the low-slung ponytail at the back of her head. Melinda looked down at her arm and felt her stomach turn at the sight of the skin on her left arm that had been torn away hanging slightly over the hand that held the wicked looking knife.

Bonny just laughed slightly. "Oh, don't worry about what I am. Just make sure you give John a message for me." She then leaned down and whispered something in Melinda's ear.

Melinda's eyes crinkled in confusion and then shot open in fear as she listened to what the thing she had thought was her friend told her. Then without warning, Melinda felt a hot pain in her stomach and she tried to cry out but found that she couldn't speak through the pain.

Bonny stepped back and watched as Melinda sat there, her hands wrapped around the hilt of the knife sticking out of her stomach and she gave a slight chuckle. "There you go. A little goodbye present between friends." She ran her hands over her mussed up clothing and then pulled the rubber band from her hair. Now, if I were you," she leaned back down and pulled some of Melinda's hair out of her face so that she could look into the woman's anger and pain filled eyes. "I wouldn't pull that out. Could get rather nasty." Bonny then smiled and walked away towards the living room as she pulled her hair back up in a ponytail.

Melinda could only sit there as she watched the creature that looked like her friend pick up little Sammy and put him in his carrier before picking up Dean, making sure to grab their coats, and headed towards the door.

Melinda shook with pain and tried to take steadying breaths as she tracked the thing's movements through the house and gave her one last hateful look as she opened the door.

Bonny just gave an evil grin and then walked out the door leaving Melinda to die.

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A/N: Well there it is. A little longer than some of the other chapters. Hope you liked it. Let me know by sending me a review. I love reviews. They give me reason to keep going on in my poor pathetic excuse of a life. Anyway, new chapter coming soon. Thanks for reading.

A/N 2: Also check out my profile page. I have a new poll up and would like your opinion. Since Dean went to Hell, how do you think he's going to come back?


	4. First

SO IT BEGINS

Chapter 4: "First"

Summary: So how did John become the great hunter that we all know and love today? And did he really want to have his sons involved?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: First of all, I apologize for the extremely long time between updates. I'm going to try and get back on track so that it won't be so long in between. Also, thanks to all for reading and thank you to all of you who sent me reviews. I love hearing what the readers think of my stories and every little bit helps. So here's the next chapter. Hope you like.

A/N2: Okay, once again Present Day in this story means November, 1984. Thus, a year after Mary was killed by the demon.

Spoilers: Um….not sure exactly. Not too many really. I may fudge on the timeline a little but I'll try and hold as close as possible. By the way, thank you _Super-wiki _website for the awesome timeline aspect. If you don't know about this site, go check it out. Lots of info about this show. www(dot)supernaturalwiki(dot)com

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_Previously: John and Bobby are returning from a hunt one year after Mary was killed by the demon. The boys are staying at Pastor Jim's with him and his wife Melinda. Since Mary died, Dean hasn't spoken a word until the anniversary of her death. While Pastor Jim is gone to the church, the boys and Melinda are attacked. Melinda is hurt pretty badly and the boys are taken. _

Cold Spring, MNPresent

Melinda tried to swallow feeling how parched her mouth was and then grimaced at how much even that little bit of movement had hurt. She blinked heavy eyelids wanting so badly to just go to sleep but then forced them open again as she remembered why that was a bad idea. She couldn't go to sleep. If she did, she might not wake up again. She had to stay awake.

_It's okay. Jim will be home soon. He'll make it better. I have to tell him about the boys. _

Her body trembled as she tried to hold onto the knife that was embedded in her stomach and fought against the desperate need to just pull the damn thing out. She knew if she did that then she would probably bleed to death, but she also knew that if she didn't she would probably die anyway. She could feel the warm stickiness of her own blood coat her fingers as it seeped from around the knife blade and could feel the wound throb with every beat of her heart. With a sharp intake of air she came to a decision. She had to do something and fast. She couldn't die before she got a chance to tell someone about the boys.

Her eyes darted around the front room frantically as her breaths came fast and ragged. If she could just think, maybe she'd think of something that could help. She stared at the scattered remains of the umbrella stand that had gotten knocked over in the fight. Thankfully, the mirror that hung above it hadn't fallen. Her eyes lit on the reflection in the mirror and her heart soared as she saw the picture of the phone that hung on the wall in the kitchen. Now if she could just…get to it.

She shakily pulled one blood covered hand away from the knife hilt and bit her lip as the wound in her stomach gave a sharp twinge.

_No, got to…keep…going. Need to call, Jim._

She put her hand on the floor to steady herself, and then tried to push up and away from the wall. Immediately pain stabbed through her stomach and her vision whited out for a moment from the effort of trying not to pass out. As she sat there trying to drag in some deep breaths, she tried to breathe through the pain.

_Come on, Melinda, you're a woman. You're supposed to be able to handle the pain. For God's sake, women gave _birth. _This was nothing. _

When she finally opened her eyes again, she found that she was slumped a little lower against the wall and she cursed slightly at the set back. Suddenly she heard a noise from behind her and her pulse quickened. Had the thing that looked like Bonny come back to finish her off?

Melinda quickly looked around trying to figure out if there was something she could get a hold of to defend herself and then she noticed the umbrella stand.

_The gun! _

She gritted her teeth hoping she would have enough time and tried to move the stand without jostling her wound too much. _Come on, come on! _She could hear more rustling outside the front door and she scrabbled even more to get a hold of the shotgun in time. Finally, her fingers wrapped around the stump of the sawed-off weapon and she pulled it towards her with a muffled cry of pain. She wasn't sure how she was going to hold the thing without hitting the hilt of the knife buried in her gut, but she knew that she needed something to protect herself and this was all there was.

Finally, she heard the screen door open with a squeak and the inner wooden door opened slowly. She tightened her grip on the gun in anticipation and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

"Melinda?"

Jim's voice called out as he stepped in the door and Melinda couldn't help but sag slightly in relief.

"Boys? I'm back. What's for…" The question died in Jim's throat as he noticed the red pool at his feet and he quickly looked for the source. "Oh, my God, Melinda?"

Jim quickly pulled the shotgun away from his wife and tried not to panic as he looked her over.

"The…boys," Melinda tried to say and then groaned in pain as the rush of adrenaline started to leave her body and she had to fight against the ever increasing darkness creeping in on her vision. _No, not yet. Jim still doesn't know_.

"No, don't talk," Jim said shakily putting a hand against her cheek and Melinda could tell he was frightened by the slight shake of his hand and the all out terrified look in his eyes. "I'm going to call for help." He started to get up and Melinda grabbed weakly at his coat.

"No….Jim…please."

Jim stopped and knelt back beside his wife with pleading eyes but he knew that she must be scared. "It's okay. You're going to be okay."

"No, Jim, the…boys. She-" A wave of pain suddenly shot through her and she had to stop and try to catch her breath after the intensity of it.

"What? The boys? I don't understand," Jim said confused as to why this was so important but then he realized that it was too quiet in the house. A sudden chill went up his spine in understanding and he licked his lips in anticipation. "Melinda, what happened? Dean? Sam?"

Melinda swallowed hard against the pain and tried to focus on Jim's wavering face. "Skin…walker. Tell…John…Delilah says…hello," Melinda finally got out and then watched as Jim's face screwed up in confusion before things started to fade out.

"Tell John? What? Melinda? Melinda?!" Jim quickly searched for a pulse and then breathed a sigh of relief when he found one way to weak and slow for his liking but still there. With a final look at his wife, he quickly rushed to the kitchen and dialed 911. "Please, God, if you're listening. Don't let her die. I'm not ready for her to go quite yet."

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Dean started to feel the first tugs of wakefulness and frowned slightly in his sleep. He wasn't ready to wake up yet. It was too early.

He burrowed a little deeper into the covers and sighed slightly. As he drifted back towards sleep though, he thought he heard someone moving around the room and his mind drifted back towards waking. He laid there with his eyes still closed trying to figure out who it was that was by sound but couldn't quite figure out who it was. He didn't think it was his Dad. His Dad moved so quietly sometimes that Dean would never hear him until his bed would dip and he would feel his Dad's rough hand rest on his head. But the person who was moving around now wasn't being quiet. And it definitely wasn't Pastor Jim or Melinda.

He frowned again as his sluggish brain tried to process those thought and he finally tried to open his eyes. It took him several tries to get his eyes to stay open and when they finally did things seemed…fuzzy. He blinked owlishly several times trying to get his eyes to focus and finally the room came into view. His brows drew together as his eyes traveled around the sparsely furnished room and he tried to remember where he was.

He wasn't scared at first when he didn't recognize the room because it had become pretty common for him to wake up somewhere different than where he went to sleep after Mommy had died. Usually his Dad would be driving when Dean would finally fall asleep and then he would wake up in some motel room with his Dad either in the other bed fast asleep or in the bathroom. But now, he didn't see his Dad anywhere.

He finally reached a fist up to scrub at tired eyes and then tried to sit up. He groaned slightly as his head started to throb at the movement and quickly lay back down and closed his eyes against the pain. He took a few deep breaths and then tried again. This time more slowly. He finally made it to a sitting position and looked around again blinking his eyes rather owlishly. There was only one bed and besides that the room was pretty empty.

"Da-daddy?" he whispered lightly and when he got no response he started to panic. Usually, the moment he made a sound his dad would be there. He looked around again and his sleep addled brain finally started to catch up with what was happening. "Sammy?" he whispered again and when he didn't see his brother his heart began to race. Where was his brother? Where was his Dad? He had to find them.

"De?"

The scared little voice came from behind him and Dean whipped around a little too quickly to find where it had come from. He had to close his eyes for a moment until he felt like the room was spinning anymore and then opened his eyes again. "Sammy?" Finally his searching eyes found the little boy and he couldn't help the slight sigh of relief that escaped him.

Sam was curled up in the corner between the bed and the wall and from where Dean was seated on the bed all he could see was a head of brown hair peeking up over the edge of the bed. Dean quickly pushed the covers back and moved to that side of the bed he finally saw frightened hazel eyes looking up at him with tears brimming in them.

"De?" Sammy asked again and Dean breathed a sigh of relief to see that his little brother was okay.

He reached out a hand to brush across his brother's head and smiled slightly when Sammy seemed to sag a little in relief at the motion. He then motioned for Sam to climb up on the bed and helped the little boy crawl up onto the mattress. He then hugged him and could feel Sammy tremble slightly in his grasp. He made shushing noises like his mom used to do when he was scared and rocked Sammy back and forth slightly to try and calm him down.

"Daddy?" Sam asked keeping one hand wrapped in Dean's t-shirt as silent tears ran down his cheeks.

Dean just shook his head and tried to remember what happened. He remembered playing with Sammy at Pastor Jim's and then…he remembered Bonny coming over with cookies. But after that he couldn't remember too much. All he knew was that _something _wasn't right. He just wished he knew what it was.

_Daddy, please find us. Sammy's scared._

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As they drove down the street towards Pastor Jim's house, John frowned slightly.

The house was dark. Even when Jim wasn't expecting them home, the house always had some kind of light on unless it was the wee hours of the morning.

As they pulled up to the curb, John looked over at Bobby and could see the same puzzlement on the other man's face. Suddenly a thought seemed to click and John felt a chill go down his spine.

"Something's wrong," he said and then went to get out.

Bobby followed suit and soon both men stood at the trunk of the car trying to figure out what they might need. Not knowing what they might face, they decided on the shotguns with salt rounds, and their handguns with consecrated iron rounds. At least that should cover most of the basic dangers.

Quickly, they slipped across the street and approached the dark house without making a sound. Moving with precise movements that spoke of military training and lots of time together, the two hunters closed in on the target house.

John approached the fence and then waited for Bobby to catch up. John then moved down the sidewalk careful of the underlying ice and moved to one side of the door and then waited on Bobby to join him. They waited on either side for a moment and with a nod John slowly opened the screen door to keep it from creaking. Once it was open, he tried the inner door and when it clicked open, he met Bobby's eyes. Bobby just nodded that he understood and John quickly pushed the door open entering with his gun drawn. They quickly searched the house coming up with nothing until they came back into the front room again.

"Clear," John whispered and waited for Bobby's response.

"Clear," Bobby whispered back and they both lowered their weapons if not their guards.

John then reached for the light switch and when the light flickered to life, his heart plummeted. "Bobby?" he managed to whisper.

Bobby quickly looked to John and saw how pale he looked. "John?" He noticed that John hadn't taken his eyes off the floor and looked down and felt his stomach tighten at the sight. There on the floor was a pool of blood slightly dried and marbling the color of the light brown carpet. Bloody footprints led out from the gory pool throughout the house and with a rising horror Bobby realized they must have stepped right through it when they came in. "My God, what happened?"

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March 15, 1984Idaho

John pulled the Impala to a stop and cut the engine.

The car grumbled to a halt and John sighed heavily before looking out the windshield at the surrounding dark. Gravestone popped out of the darkness in the near distance and dotted the area as far as he could see. He let out a puff of breath as he leaned back in the seat for a moment trying to calm his frazzled nerves and then ran a hand across his face before looking back out the windshield again. He gripped the steering wheel for a moment trying to decide what to do and then finally made up his mind. It was now or never.

Sighing again he turned to the backseat to study the other two people in the car with him. "Hey, Dean, you okay?"

His little boy was looking out the side window in the backseat at the dark and John could tell that he was scared. When he heard his dad speak, he whipped around to stare at his father before finally nodding that he was fine.

"Okay. Come here," John said as he tapped the front seat with his hand.

Dean crawled over the seat and sat next to his father.

John studied his eldest for a moment before calming his features and putting on a brave face for his son. "Okay. I want you to stay in the car with Sammy. Now, I won't be too long; and whatever happens… Don't get out of the car. Do you understand?"

Dean nodded his head and John smiled slightly.

"Now I'm counting on you to keep Sam safe. Okay?"

Dean looked at him with those big green eyes before looking back at Sam in the backseat who was still asleep in his car seat. John could visibly see the boy come to a decision and his lips thinned to a determined line before he nodded.

John gave a big smile and laid a hand on his son's head ruffling his long blonde curls. "That's my boy."

He then got out and went to the trunk to get his supplies: a shotgun, holy water, gasoline, a flashlight, a shovel, and his journal. He quickly looked through his journal again before throwing it in his duffel and grabbed the handles. He adjusted the duffel strap on his shoulder and turned back to the front of the car. "Now make sure that the doors are locked and don't open them for anyone, even me, unless they give the signal. Do you remember what that is?" Dean nodded and then John leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Okay. Now, don't worry. I'll just be right over there." With that he closed the door and watched as Dean pushed the lock down and climbed into the backseat with Sam. He then turned back to the graveyard with a heavy sigh and set out to find the grave of Samuel Peeves.

Since he had found out about the supernatural from Missouri almost four months ago, John had been searching local newspapers and old library archives trying to find anything that might be tied to the supernatural and how to kill it when he had stumbled across a possibility.

A small town in Idaho had had a rash of teenage deaths in the last month that looked slightly suspicious. The title had been "Fifth Accident Claims Teenage Life." The story had said that there had been five teenagers that had died within the last month of suffocation, but what had caught John's eye was that they had all been found out in the open near a field in the country with no signs of anything that could have possibly caused them to suffocate.

As John had read the article, he had felt that this was a possible hunt and he knew that he needed to find out if it was. He had packed the boys up that day and headed for the Illinois. While sifting through the town's archives and local newspapers, he had come across an article about a young man, Samuel Peeves, who had died about twenty years ago accidentally when he and a group of friends had been playing near a bunch of hay bales.

Apparently the bales had collapsed and the young man couldn't get out and suffocated. The further John dug into the story about the boy who had died he realized that the kids that were dying now were all the sons or daughters of the kids that had been involved in the accident twenty years ago. After a little more research to make sure that there hadn't been anymore deaths in that area, John came to the conclusion that it must be an angry ghost who was attacking the kids and that it was this Samuel Peeves. He had searched public records and found where Samuel was buried and now he stood in front of the boy's headstone. He quickly set his supplies down near the stone and began to dig.

About an hour later John's shovel finally scraped the coffin. "Ah, finally," he said tiredly and swiped his hand across his sweaty brow. He took an awkward step back in the narrow hole and then quickly slammed the shovel into the coffin top to bust it apart.

The first blow bounced off the hard wood and John took another stab this time splintering the wood. He fell back slightly as the smell of death overwhelmed him and he held his hand over his nose. "Oh, God. Man that's rank." He swallowed quickly to quell the nausea that threatened to take over and moved to break apart the rest of the coffin lid. He quickly splintered the wood to show more of the skeleton until he could see most of it and decided that is was good enough.

He quickly jumped out of the grave and grabbed his journal. He opened it to a certain page and got the holy water. "Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei. Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu Christi…" He quickly recited the Latin exorcism only stumbling over a few words here and there. After it was done he poured gasoline on the bones and took out his matches. He took one last look at the grave thinking that this almost felt too easy but then shook it off. He had done everything according to what he had read so it must be right. "So long, Samuel Peeves."

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" A gruff sounding voice said from behind him.

_Crap. _John froze and then holding his hands out away from his body began to turn slowly. "Look. I can explain everything," he said as he completed his turn to find himself at eye level with a sawed-off shotgun.

The man behind the gun had longer blondish brown hair hid under a dirty baseball cap and sharp eyes that never wavered from John's. He seemed a little thick around the waist but John knew that just by looking at the man that he more dangerous than he looked. "Oh really. And just what would you say if I let you explain?" asked the man never lowering the gun.

John swallowed slowly trying to come up with a plausible story but getting nothing. "I know…this looks bad, but believe me when I tell you. This needs to be done."

"Yeah. I know that it needs to be done. What I meant to say was what the hell do you think you're going to accomplish by using holy water on a ghost's bones? Don't you know that holy water and exorcisms only works on demons?"

John stood stock still not knowing what to say. He definitely hadn't expected that. "I, uh, I-"

The man finally lowered his gun and looked at John with a little annoyance. "Let me guess. This is your first hunt," he said a little sarcastically.

John just opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to get sound to come out as he watched the man move passed him to look at John's handy work. "Yeah. How did you know?"

The man just frowned and looked at him hard before looking back at the grave. "By the half-assed job you did. First rule about ghosts: You have to use salt on the bones to purify them otherwise you're not going to do jack by burning them. Do you have any salt?" John just shook his head and the man just snorted. "Figures."

He traipsed past John to his bag and pulled out a big canister before heading back to the grave. "You didn't even completely uncover the bones. If you don't get all of them it won't work." He jumped back down into the grave and proceeded to smash the rest of the coffin lid.

John just stood there flabbergasted not sure what to do. He felt like such a rookie.

Suddenly a cold wind blew past the two men and they both looked around as they heard quiet laughter.

"Great," the man grumbled as he looked around and then put down his shovel. "Here." The guy threw John his gun and John caught it with ease. "Cover me while I finish this."

John frowned slightly and looked around the graveyard. "Cover you from what?" Suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and he swung around to see a pale faced little boy inches standing inches from him. He gave out a startled yelp and backed away in fright. They boy didn't move but just stood there and stared at John.

"Don't just stand there. Shoot the damn thing!" Bobby yelled as he continued to bust the rest of the coffin lid away from the bones.

John turned back to the boy and started to raise his shotgun when the boy blinked out of existence. John frowned in confusion before he was thrown through the air. He landed hard against a gravestone and felt his shoulder pop out of place. He grunted in pain and shook his head trying to get his bearings again and finally saw the ghost leaning over the grave.

The man in the grave quickly grabbed the canister of salt and threw some at the spirit who screamed in pain and disappeared in a blink of an eye. "Hey! Keep him off of me until I can salt and burn his bones."

John struggled to stand and grabbed his gun in his good arm. He held the weapon one handed as his eyes darted around the graveyard trying to figure out where it might show itself again. He slowly made his way over to the grave while he kept an eye out for the ghost and watched out of the corner of his eye as the man pulled himself up and out of the hole.

Suddenly a cool breeze flitted over John's back and he swung to see the ghost coming at him again. He fired a round into it and it flickered in pain before throwing John through the air again. This time John hit a trunk of a tree and all of the air was knocked out of him. He gasped for air as black dots swam in his vision and he could feel a sharp pain in his side from where he had hit. He blinked several times trying to regain his wits when he saw the ghost standing about ten feet from him and then in a blink of an eye it was on top of him.

John tried to reach for his gun but the spirit stopped him with a hand to his throat. The boy's ghost stared at him with such anger as John scrabbled for purchase against the ghost's hand but his fingers just slipped through the non-corporeal being. He gasped for air as cold fingers wrapped around his throat and John found that he couldn't breathe. With surprising strength, the ghost pulled him forward and slammed his head against the tree causing John's vision to blacken for a moment as he fought to stay conscious.

Just as he thought it was over, the ghost suddenly stiffened in fear and let him go. The boy then cried out in pain as he started to burn away into ash. John slumped back against the tree gasping for air as he watched the spirit disappear and then once it was gone he realized that the grave was on fire and the man he had met was coming towards him. Still not exactly sure what the hell had just happened, John tried to stand and promptly fell back down cracking his head again on the tree trunk.

"Whoa, there. Take it easy," said the man who was suddenly kneeling in front of John with concerned eyes.

John, startled by his sudden appearance, tried to back away. He bit back a cry of pain as the move jostled his sore arm and side and he closed his eyes against the pain.

"Now hold on. I'm not gonna hurt you," the man said holding his hands up in surrender. He waited for John to open his eyes again and then started to look him over for injuries. "Looks like that ghost did a pretty good job of that itself. What's your name?"

John struggled to sit up a little more and groaned slightly with the effort. "John," he finally ground out between clenched teeth.

The man reached forward and helped John to sit up a little more. "Well, John, it's nice to meet you. I'm, Bobby." He reached forward to shake John's hand a little awkwardly and then nodded. "Now, what do you say we take a look at you?"

John nodded his consent and Bobby quickly took a look at his shoulder and gently felt the back of his head. John hissed in pain when he touched the large lump on the back of his head and suddenly felt a little light headed. Bobby then held up his flashlight and shown it into John's eyes. John winced at the bright light and tried to push it away.

"Easy. I'm just checking to see if you have a concussion. Doesn't look too bad. This shoulder's dislocated though. You're gonna need to get it fixed. Come on. I'll take you to the hospital." Bobby moved to get him up and John pushed him away.

"No. No hospitals. Can you do it?" John asked him and Bobby just looked at him for moment trying to figure out who this man lying on the ground before him was.

"Yeah, I probably can. Why don't you want to go to a hospital, John?"

John fixed him with a hard stare. "I've got my reasons." John didn't know this man and he wasn't ready to trust him with his secrets just yet and even with that Bobby understood. Everyone who was a hunter had _something _to hide. Just some more than others.

Bobby finally nodded. "Okay. Give me a minute to fill this in and then we'll go." Bobby waited for John to nod his agreement before turning back to the flaming grave.

As John laid there watching Bobby fill in the grave, his thoughts drifted back to the night's events and how stupid he had been. He berated himself for almost completely botching the job and not knowing how to do the job right. If it hadn't of been for Bobby, the ghost wouldn't have been taken care of and then where would he be?

He thought of Dean and Sam sitting in his car not too far from here and wondered what would have happened to them if he had gotten hurt…or worse killed. They wouldn't even know something was wrong until it was too late. And if John really thought about it, he was a real idiot for even trying to do this while his boys were still so young.

"Hey."

John felt a hand on his shoulder and in a flash he had his knife pressed to the intruder's throat.

Bobby gasped slightly and threw his hands up in surrender as he froze in his tracks. "Easy. Easy… It's just me, Bobby. Remember?" He watched as the deadly anger melted from John's eyes as recognition finally took over and he slowly let the knife fall away from Bobby's throat.

"Sorry. Old habit," said John tiredly.

Bobby just nodded warily. He would have to reassess his thoughts about John. Until that moment he had thought him just a man who had one day decided to try his hand at hunting, but now…_I'll have to be more careful with my assumptions._ "Can you stand?"

Between the two of them they got John to his feet and he swayed slightly as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him. Bobby put a steadying hand on John's shoulder and John grabbed onto him slightly. "I'm okay," he finally said hating the slight waver in his voice.

"Yeah, right," Bobby mumbled as he continued to hold onto the hurt man. "Look. Maybe I better drive. We'll come back and get your vehicle later." Bobby started to steer him towards his truck but John stopped and grabbed his arm.

"Wait. My car."

Bobby just shook his head. "Look. I just met you, and frankly I don't know you. Now I know I have first aid supplies in my truck. Do you?"

John started to shake his head but then thought better of it as the ground seemed to shift slightly under him with the movement. "No, but please. I need to go to my car."

Bobby looked at him for a moment and then finally sighed giving in. "Okay. Where is it?"

John looked around a moment trying to get his bearings and then pointed. "There."

Bobby looked and saw a black muscle car parked about 100 feet away. He wrapped John's good arm around his shoulders and they headed for the car. "So why'd you come out here, John?" Bobby asked trying to fill the dead silence.

"Saw an article about those teenagers dying and decided to look into it."

"So you automatically thought it was a ghost?" Bobby asked to keep him talking.

"No, did some research and found out about Samuel Peeves's death. After a while, I finally realized that all the kids that were dying were relatives to those who witnessed the accident. Figured that it was possibly an angry ghost the way the boy had died. After that, I made sure there weren't any more deaths in the area to be sure and found none."

Bobby took that in and snorted. "You got all of that on your own, huh?" When John didn't answer Bobby just shook his head. "Well maybe you do have the makings to be a good hunter after all. Now all you gotta do is get the technique down."

They finally reached the car and Bobby set John on the hood gratefully. He didn't seem it, but John was a well built man and he was _heavy_.

John sat there trying to catch his breath for a moment and Bobby decided to try the door handle. "It's locked. Keys?" He held out his hand to John who looked at him with a confused look. "It's locked. Do you have the keys?" _Please say yes. Please say yes._

Recognition finally dawned and John held up a finger for Bobby to wait before turning to the driver's window and knocking once.

Bobby looked at him like he had gone nuts until he heard a tiny knock come from inside the car and then another. "What the hell?" he asked and John quieted him.

John knocked again. This time a slow pattern (tap…tap…tap, tap……tap…tap…tap, tap)

In the moment that it took Bobby to recognize the pattern, the tapping was answered from inside with more knocks.

(Shave and a haircut)

"Two bits," John said as he rapped two more times on the window and Bobby just looked between John and the car trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Suddenly, Bobby realized there was movement within the shadowed interior and he noticed a small hand snake around the front seat bench and unlock the driver's door. Bobby did a double take and then leaned down to look in. He saw a small boy with curly blonde hair quickly slip away from the window to the passenger side of the backseat where he sat protectively up against something against the far door staring at Bobby through the window.

Bobby glanced up at John with raised eyebrows and was met with a troubled look from John as if he was trying to figure out if he could trust Bobby. "My sons," he said simply never taking his eyes away from the other man.

Bobby frowned at him for a moment and then recognition dawned. He leaned back down to the window and realized what the little boy was protectively leaning up against: a child's car seat with another little boy in it who couldn't even be a year old. "Jesus," was all that Bobby could think to say and he continued to stare at the older boy's big eyes. He then stood and rubbed a hand over his face before turning back to John. "I guess we're taking your car."

John just nodded and then carefully worked his way around to the passenger side. Bobby just watched as John slid in and could hear him say something to the boy before calling for Bobby to open the door. Bobby carefully opened the door and peered in. The boy didn't look to be more than about four or five, but Bobby could tell even by the way he held himself and continued to look skittishly between his father and the strange man in the driver's seat that if need be, he would put up a hell of a fight if he thought that his family was in danger.

"Dean, this is Bobby. Bobby, this is Dean."

Bobby nodded at the tow headed boy and tried to give a little smile. "Hi, Dean. Nice to meet you."

Dean just waved slightly never moving any closer and he noticed how he kept a hand on his father's shoulder even as he kept himself between his little brother and Bobby.

"Bobby's gonna help us out, okay?" John said quietly as he looked back at his oldest son as if waiting for approval.

Bobby felt Dean's hard stare and gulped slightly at the scrutiny of the little boy. Finally, Dean nodded slowly showing that he understood and the tension seemed to ease a little in the crowded car.

Bobby moved slowly into the driver's seat feeling slightly stupid at how much respect he was paying to a scrawny little kid, but he had also seen how fiercely protective the kid was and knew that that could be dangerous in its own right.

Dean watched as the man his dad called Bobby slid into the driver's seat and started the car. He kept his eyes glued to the back of the man's head not wanting to let his guard down for a second in case his Daddy had been wrong about the man, but he also knew that if his Daddy had trusted this man that he should be able to also.

Soon the car was stopped again and the man mumbled something to his dad before getting out leaving the car idling while he was gone.

Dean watched him go before leaning forward to look at his dad. He brushed his hand against his dad's face and jumped slightly when his dad jumped.

"It's okay, Tiger. I'm okay. Just a little sore is all." His dad put a comforting hand on his head and Dean could feel a little of the tension ease from his shoulders. The car door opened again and Dean quickly leaned back from his Dad and gripped the side of Sam's seat. He watched Bobby for a few more moments to make sure he wasn't going to try anything and then glanced at Sam.

Thankfully, his little brother was still sleeping. Little puffs of air escaped as he slept making his little bow tie lips move slightly with each breath. Dean tucked the blanket in around him a little more and then sat back in the seat to watch the two men in the front.

"So, do you have a room somewhere?" asked Bobby. "What? Oh, yeah, at the Sleep Inn. The owner's a real nice guy. Not too many people stay there. I'm sure you could get a room if you want. It's just down this street."

Bobby nodded and glanced in the rearview mirror at the two young boys in the backseat.

Dean was watching him with those big eyes and Bobby shivered slightly. He knew it was crazy, but it just wasn't right to see those serious eyes coming from such a young boy.

"So why did you decide to start hunting?" asked Bobby and he glanced over at John before turning his eyes back to the road. Bobby could feel John tense at the question and frowned. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just thought I'd ask." Bobby kicked himself for the stupid question. He knew that the reason most hunters got involved with the hunt was because the supernatural had touched their lives in some way and usually for the worse. Like it had been for him with his wife.

John cleared his throat and tried to sit up a little more before glancing at Bobby sideways. "No, it's okay." His voice lowered and Bobby found himself concentrating hard to hear him. "My wife…got killed in a fire last November. They say it was an electrical fire that started in the nursery's ceiling."

Bobby clenched his jaw in determination. "But it wasn't. Was it?" asked Bobby knowingly.

John shook his head slightly and looked out the side window not wanting to show how much that knowledge still hurt. "No…I remember…hearing a scream and going into the nursery to find nobody there except for the baby. And then…" John swallowed hard remembering that night. "She was pinned on the ceiling, bleeding… Then she burst into flames."

Now it was Bobby's turn to swallow hard at the pull of emotions. "How did you find out what it was?"

"Went to a psychic," John said with no flourish in his voice. "I had to be sure. She told me that it was a demon and then told me about the other stuff. After that…let's just say I got a little obsessed." John gave a tired smile and Bobby just waited in silence for him to continue. "Soon after that, my friends started to worry about my 'state of mind' and I knew that if I stayed there much longer I might lose my boys." John glanced towards the backseat without really looking and then turned back to the window. "After that, I just packed up my kids and took off."

Bobby nodded with understanding realizing that people probably thought him crazy. He knew that after his own wife had died and he had tried to explain to people what he had seen that most people thought he should be in the loony bin for what he thought happened. He could only imagine what would have happened to John's kids if that had happened to him.

After driving for a while in silence, they finally pulled into the parking lot of the Sleep Inn and John directed him to their room towards the end of the line. Bobby quickly parked the car and then helped the injured hunter into the room before coming back out for the boys. He opened the passenger door and was about to reach around for the lock on the back door when he realized Dean was kneeling on the backseat protectively covering his younger brother and brandishing a small knife at Bobby's face.

Bobby slowly moved his hand away from the lock and held it up in a non-threatening gesture. "Easy, Dean," Bobby said calmly even though on the inside he was cursing up a storm for letting his guard down for the second time that night. "I'm just gonna bring your brother inside. I didn't think you could probably carry him by yourself and I don't want him to get hurt. Okay?"

Bobby could see the fear and mistrust in the boy's eyes as he continued to stare at the older man and Bobby could see Dean was still not sure if he could trust the man before him.

"I promise. Nothing bad will happen to him while I'm around." Bobby held the boy's gaze not even daring to breathe as he waited on his answer.

Finally, the boy nodded his consent and then backed off slightly before reaching over to unlock the door himself.

Bobby quickly but carefully undid the door and under Dean's careful scrutiny got the young boy out of his car seat. As soon as the boy had cleared the seat, Bobby could hear Dean scrambling out the other door and running around to the passenger side to make sure that nothing happened to his brother. Bobby waited for the young boy and then headed towards the door of the motel room.

This was going to be a long night.

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A/N: Okay, there it is. A little longer than my usual. Hope you liked it. Let me know by pushing the little button and sending me a review. I like reviews. Their like warm chocolate chip cookies to me. Okay, that was a little different but anyways. Once again, thanks for reading and I'll catch you soon with the next chapter.

A/N2: Does anybody have a link to a couple good exorcisms? The one I had linked has disappeared and I can't find a new one. If you have any ideas, send me a message and I will be incredibly grateful. I might have to think of something special to do.


	5. Trust

SO IT BEGINS

Chapter 5: "Trust"

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Hello? Anybody there? I know it's been a really long time between updates. I blame real life. Just know that if anybody is still reading thank you all. And if I didn't reply to your review, know that I do truly love getting them and appreciate everyone of them.

A/N2: Okay, once again Present Day in this story means November, 1984. Thus, a year after Mary was killed by the demon.

Spoilers: Um….not sure exactly? Not too many really. I may fudge on the timeline a little but I'll try and hold as close as possible. By the way, thank you _Super-wiki _website for the awesome timeline aspect. If you don't know about this site, go check it out. Lots of info about this show. www(dot)supernaturalwiki(dot)com

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_Previously: John and Bobby are returning from a hunt one year after Mary was killed. The boys are staying at Pastor Jim's with him and his wife Melinda. Since Mary died, Dean hasn't spoken a word until the anniversary of Mary's death. While Pastor Jim is gone to the church, the boys and Melinda are attacked by something supernatural. Melinda is hurt pretty badly and the boys are taken. _

**March 20****th****, 1984 Cold Spring, Mn**

Pastor Jim Murphy was sitting in his study trying not to bang his head against the desk in frustration. He'd been trying to figure out a topic for his next sermon and so far, nothing had come to him. And tomorrow was _Sunday_.

He sighed heavily and just prayed that God could help him get _some_ kind of inspiration before tomorrow morning.

"How's it going?"

Jim looked up to see his wife Melinda standing in the doorway and smiled at her. "Well, I keep praying for something to come to me, but so far…" He motioned to the blank page in front of him and then slumped forward slightly in defeat.

Melinda just smiled slightly and came forward to wrap her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the side of his head. "Don't worry. You'll figure it out. You always do," she said, her mouth nuzzled up against his ear.

Jim just smiled in return and then turned back to his work with a heavy sigh. "You're right. I guess I just need reminding."

Melinda just tapped him on the shoulder slightly like this wasn't news and moved away to let him work some more. "I'll call you when it's time for dinner."

Jim spent the rest of the afternoon trying to come up with something by flipping through the Bible or thinking about what had happened so far that week getting an idea and then dismissing it just as quickly until the shadows on his desk stretched in length and the sun had taken on an orange hue before an idea finally came to him. Finally done, Jim sighed again and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes thankful that at least that part was done. Now all he had to do was perfect it before tomorrow morning.

After a few more moments he looked at the clock blinking a few times to get it to come into focus. Almost five o'clock.

Realizing what time it was, he finally noticed he could smell the scent of dinner being made and his stomach gave a slight growl in response the smell of food. He then frowned as the growl continued and seemed to grow louder almost seeming to vibrate through the room. He wasn't _that _hungry. It took Jim a second more to realize where the noise was coming from and turned to look out the window at the street.

In the waning light he could see a sleek, black muscle car pull up alongside the curb and stop leaving the engine purring for a moment more before it was finally cut. Jim frowned slightly not recognizing the car, but that wasn't anything really new either. Sometimes people down on their luck and passing through town would find their way to his church and thus to him just in need of some assistance before leaving once again.

As Jim watched, a tall, well-built man got out and Jim could see him looking towards the house as if he was assessing it and that set off an little alarm in Jim's head.

Hunter.

"Honey?"

Jim jumped slightly at Melinda's voice and turned to see her puzzled face he then gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it," Jim said getting up and walk towards her. He touched her hand in a fleeting grasp as he passed her before letting his smile slip slightly once he was passed her.

He wasn't well known in the hunting community, but there were a few he could trust and knew. And sometimes they would send someone new his way to learn, but very rarely was it someone who was an experienced hunter. And this man seemed to already have that 'dangerous' air about him.

It was a little longer before the doorbell rang and Jim waited a few more minutes to make it look like he hadn't been waiting for it and headed towards the door. He checked to make sure the shotgun he kept by the door was ready and also that the Devil's Trap Bobby had painted above his door last year was still intact before opening the door. You never could be too careful.

But what he saw beyond the door gave him pause.

Quickly recovering, he opened the door a little wider but still keeping it closed enough that if need be he could close it quickly. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Are you Pastor Jim Murphy?" the dark haired man asked before hitching the sleeping child on his shoulder a little higher and unconsciously turning so the child was further away from the possible threat before him.

Jim took that in and noted it for further processing later. "And you are?" Still not quite sure who this man was or why he was looking for him he wasn't quite ready to tell him who he was for certain.

"Bobby Singer said that you might be able to help."

Jim just blinked a couple of times as a little bit of tension eased from him knowing that Bobby had sent him. "I might. What is it that you need?" Jim might have been the kind of man to automatically believe someone was truthful, but when dealing with the hunting community and knowing what 'things' could look like people, you could never be too careful.

Especially, when it was someone you didn't know.

The man before him shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the prospect of trusting someone, but he also knew he had to think about his boys. "Bobby said you were the best to learn from and that you might…" John clenched his jaw as he shuffled again and Jim could see how difficult this was for him. He wasn't a man that was used to asking for help. "I need…someplace that's safe,"

John looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms and then back up at Jim with pleading eyes and Jim could clearly see the love he had for his son in that one look. "Well, that I can understand," Jim finally said and stepped back to let the man in. "I didn't catch you name."

John gave a tight smile at that knowing that he hadn't given it on purpose. "John, John Winchester. This is my son, Sam," he said indicating the sleeping boy. "And this is, Dean."

Jim blinked in surprise as John pulled another little boy from behind him who seemed to cling to his father's side even as he kept his wide green eyes fixed on the man before him. "Hello, Dean," Jim said quietly still slightly in shock that he had completely missed the second boy. He looked back up at John again and could see the pleading, cautious eyes of a young father looking back at him. "Why don't we go inside? I think Melinda made some supper."

"Oh, no, we don't want-"

"Please," Jim cut John off before he could go any further. "It's not a problem." John just nodded and nudged Dean to go inside ahead of him.

The blonde headed boy looked up at his dad receiving a nod in return before heading inside never letting go of his father's hand the whole time. Once inside, Jim looked at the rag-tag little group with searching eyes as they filed into the front room and wondered what he had gotten himself into this time.

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**Present--Somewhere Unknown**

Dean leaned back slightly against the wall and sighed in relief. Finally.

Since waking and finding his brother, Dean had tried to comfort Sam the best he could but Sammy had been inconsolable and cried so much that he had finally worn himself out and fallen asleep.

Dean looked back down to see Sammy curled up next to him, his head resting slightly on Dean's leg and his thumb stuck in his mouth as he sucked it slightly in his sleep. Dean felt a small smile creep across his face and couldn't help it as he looked down at Sam.

_At least he's okay. _

Dean brushed his hand through Sam's hair so that he could see his little brother's face and then stilled as the little boy stirred for a moment before settling again into sleep.

_It's okay, Sammy. I'll take care of you._

Not moving from his place on the bed, Dean started looking around the darkened room to see if he could see anything that might help them get out of there. So far, they hadn't seen their kidnappers yet; but Dean knew that if he wasn't at Pastor Jim's, then something must've happened and they needed to get back there soon.

As he looked around the small room his hope began to fade. There really wasn't much there. The one window—though big—was boarded up enough to make it impossible to open and the only other exit was the door. And that was most definitely locked. Even from here he could see where they had installed a dead bolt on the outside of it. Biting his lip in frustration he kept looking. When he was sure Sam was really asleep, he'd have to look around some more, but for now it didn't look like there was much hope.

Suddenly, there was a loud buzz that made Dean jump slightly and then the room was flooded with light and the low level hum of a big light powering up. White slices of light slipped between the boards on the window and created more shadows that fell across the bed and floor in crooked bars that made the room look even more like a cage.

_Hmm, a yard light?_

Dean frowned slightly as he thought about what that might mean. It could mean that they were out in the country, or maybe they were just really close to street. But he hadn't heard any traffic? So.... Maybe…he could look between the boards and see something that could tell him where they were so when they escaped…

Dean sighed again, tired beyond belief, and let his head lean back against the wall as he closed his eyes in frustration.

Too many thoughts.

And right now, they would have to wait. For now, he had to take care of Sammy.

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**Present--Cold Spring Municipal Hospital**

Bobby struggled to keep up with John as they rushed towards the Emergency Room doors across the snowy parking lot. His legs were still a little wobbly after John had almost gotten them killed trying to get here at the speed of light on _icy_ roads.

He could _still_ see the corner of the red car coming towards the passenger's door at break neck speed as John managed to slide the Impala around a corner only bumping up against the curb before fishtailing down the road leaving the other car honking its horn at them. "John, will you slow down," Bobby grumbled but continued trudging towards the automatic doors after the determined man.

The doors parted before John and a rush of warm air greeted him making his skin prickle slightly at the change in temperature but he paid it no mind. He had to find his boys.

Passing through the second set of doors, he quickly started scanning the waiting room hoping to find both Pastor Jim and the boys just sitting there. John could hear Bobby come up beside him but didn't look towards the other hunter as he continued his search.

Even for a small town, the ER waiting room was busy with sick kids and adults of varying ages and John cursed the fact there were so many people to look through.

"John," Bobby said tapping John's arm slightly and pointing towards the far corner.

John looked in the direction Bobby was pointing to see a hunched figure with his hands clasped tightly in front of him starring down at the floor. "Jim," he said and headed towards the slightly older man all the time scanning for both of his sons amongst the other people.

When they reached the Pastor, they could see how nervous he was. His clasped hands were white-knuckled as he held them before him in prayer and his foot tapped nervously on the floor.

"Jim?" John said feeling his stomach sink at the sight of the man. "Jim."

Pastor Jim finally seemed to notice someone was calling him and looked up. When he saw John and Bobby standing before him he had to blink a few times. "John? Bobby? What…"

"We went to the house," John said trying to keep his voice from shaking as he thought again about the amount of blood they had stepped through when searching the house.

"I…I don't know what happened," Jim started, sitting back slightly, John and Bobby paled slightly at the glimpse of his blood soaked clothing and Jim just stared down at the blood on his hands. "I…went to the church to…and then…oh my God, there was so much blood." Jim's voice died out at the end and he clasped his shaking hands together again to keep from completely losing it again.

"Jim," John began trying not to lose it himself. "What happened?"

Jim just blinked a couple times as if confused by the question.

"Jim…where are Dean and Sam?"

"They, they're gone," Jim said brokenly and lowered his head onto his hands once again.

John sat down sharply thankful there was a seat close enough to catch him. "What?"

"Jim, who got hurt?" Bobby tried feeling like his heart had just been ripped out but knowing that he was more with it than John at the moment.

"I…I tried to stop the bleeding, but…oh God…Melinda."

Bobby seemed to be able to breathe again even though his heart hurt for Jim at that moment. "Was it…Melinda who got hurt?" he asked hoping to keep his friend on track.

Jim just nodded mechanically.

"What happened?"

"They…some…_thing_…stabbed her. They were after the boys and she…got in the way. They wanted-"

John's head shot up at the mention of Sam and Dean and he turned back to Jim with desperation. "Jim. Jim, what happened? Where are my boys?"

Jim turned stiffly towards John still trying to wrap his brain around what had happened. "They…took them. Melinda said it was…" Suddenly, Jim seemed to realize where he was and blinked several times at the full waiting room and the attention they had seemed to gain in the last few moments.

John and Bobby both seemed to realize the same thing and straightened awkwardly at the sudden realization of how many people were listening.

"Maybe we should…" Pastor Jim made a motion towards the hallway but then seemed torn as he looked towards the ER doors where he knew Melinda was.

"You two go," Bobby said sensing Jim's predicament. "I'll check on Melinda."

Jim just nodded and got up, suddenly self-conscious and slightly horrified that he still had Melinda's blood all over his clothes, he fidgeted slightly and looked around the waiting room trying to give a slight smile to the few people who were still looking at them funny and headed for the door with John right behind him.

When they stepped down the hall far enough away from the throng of people so no one would over hear them, John stopped his friend. "Jim, what happened? Who took the boys?" John could feel his heart beating hard against his chest as fear for his sons tried to strangle him but he kept his calm.

Jim just sighed and raised a hand to rub across his face but stopped short thinking better of it when he saw the blood still smeared there. "It-it was a skinwalker," he said softly and noticed the dark look that came over John's face at this. "Evidently, it tried to take the boys and Melinda got in the way. It…it stabbed…h-her." He had to swallow hard to keep from throwing up as he thought of what his wife must have went through lying there afterwards waiting for him to come home.

Jim took another steadying breath before looking back up at John's angry face. "It told Melinda, to tell you that Delilah says hello."

John's face seemed to go white at the mention of the name and Jim suddenly felt something cold go through him.

"You know who that is?"

John nodded slowly suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. "Yeah."

"Who is she?"

John locked eyes with Jim not liking what he was going to have to tell him. "Not who…what. Delilah's a demon."

Jim's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "But-"

John huffed out a frustrated sigh and turned away to smack the wall with his hand. "Damn it!" Turning back to Jim with his head hung low, he put his hands on his hips in a weary stance. "Jim, I'm sorry." John bit his lip and then looked back up at his friend. "This is all my fault."

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**March 20****th****, 1984 Cold Spring, Mn**

Melinda was in the kitchen stirring the soup as she waited for the cornbread to finish and worried her lip with her teeth. She had trained her senses towards the front door trying to hear what was going on but not wanting to intrude in case it was nothing more than someone just stopping by for a visit. But from Jim's reaction before she could tell that this was probably something a little more than just some stranger needing a little help.

She could hear Jim's soft voice murmur a few words and a deep rumbling voice return the response but nothing more than that. Trying to distract herself, she quickly set the table for the two of them and knew that if need be, Jim would give her some kind of warning before things turned sour.

Thankfully, they had not had much contact with the hunting community except for the few fledgling hunters that didn't quite know what they were doing and would somehow find their way to their door.

But all of them—young or old—had been full of anger or remorse for whatever had brought them into this life and she knew that that could make a person dangerous. So until they were gone, she would usually keep her distance. But even in spite of that or maybe because of it, she had learned a little bit from each of them. Like how to take defend herself in case something went wrong or even shoot a gun. She wasn't stupid by any means and would do what needed be done to protect her family.

"…I think Melinda made some supper." Melinda heard Jim say and she stood a little straighter straining to hear the man's response. There were a few more words exchanged and then she could hear the front door open further and then soon close after that.

"Melinda?" Jim said coming into the kitchen as he kept looking back towards the front room with sort of a strange look on his face.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" Jim finally looked back at Melinda and she could see a little sadness mixed with an 'I'm sorry" in his eyes and she gave him a look as if to say 'It's okay'.

He just smiled at her and reached out to take her hand before leading her towards the front room to meet their new guest.

When she finally came into sight of the man, she quickly did a once over noticing at first how young he looked and then that he was _big_. Not just tall. But also broad in a muscular way.

And then she noticed the boy.

She stopped short with a slight hitch in her breathing and just stared. Small, thin with blonde, curly hair and…those eyes.

"Honey, I'd like you to meet, John Winchester," Jim introduced the man who nodded slightly even as he kept one hand on his son's shoulder.

"This is, Dean," John said giving Dean's shoulder a slight squeeze and the boy tried to move even closer to his Dad.

Melinda looked at those big green eyes and saw the mistrust and fear that mingled in those soulful eyes and Melinda's heart ached at that look. "Hello," Melinda finally managed and gave Dean a small smile.

Dean just looked up at John and held on a little tighter to his dad's shirt still not sure what to make of these two strangers.

"It's okay, Dean. They're going to help us," John said brushing his hand through Dean's blonde curls and Dean seemed to lean into the touch before looking back at Jim and Melinda again with wary eyes. He then turned back to the couch and climbed up on the cushions next to a bundle of blankets. John followed his son's movements and then turned back to the other two adults. "He hasn't talked since…" He swallowed hard against the fresh pain of loss and then cleared his throat. "I, uh, hope you don't mind, but Sam was still asleep."

"Sam?" Melinda said a little confused but John just nodded and gave a small smile as looked back at the couch again.

"Yeah, my youngest."

Melinda just blinked and looked again at the bundle of blankets lying on the couch and noticed for the first time the mop of unruly brown hair peeking out above the blue blanket and one little hand that was curled around Dean's little fingers. Melinda knew she resembled a fish out of water as she stared at the two little boys with her mouth agape but couldn't help herself.

A _hunter_. With not one but _two_ sons?

She finally managed to pull herself together and looked at both Jim and John before taking a tentative step forwards. She made sure to make eye contact with John and with the nod of consent from him, she approached the two boys.

Dean was staring down at Sam with nothing short of a loving look on his face as Sam gripped his finger tightly in his little hand.

Melinda crept closer and her heart melted at the sight. A little boy, maybe a year old, with little bow-tie lips that puffed in and out slightly with each breath and chubby little cheeks and hands that made him look even more adorable than before. He seemed to give a little lop-sided smile before his face smoothed back out in sleep, and Melinda could see that he would probably have dimples when he got older.

She then noticed Dean move slightly and turned her eyes to the older boy. He was staring at her with wary eyes and she could see that he was tense with how close she was to Sam. Melinda held his gaze for a few more moments knowing that if she wanted to get closer she would have to go through Dean first. "Hi," she said softly. "I know you don't know me, but…I promise. I won't hurt your brother."

Dean just stared at her and Melinda stared right back not daring to look away. Finally, Dean dropped his gaze back to Sam and Melinda knew in his own way, that was Dean's seal of approval. For now, anyways.

She looked back down at Sam for a few more moments smiling slightly at the sleeping boy and then looked back up at Dean. "Are you hungry?"

Dean looked up at her and then at his Dad before nodding hesitantly.

"Do you want to go get something to eat while your Dad and Jim talk? I made some beef stew and corn bread."

Dean bit his lip in hesitation, clearly trying to decide what to do, and Melinda figured she would give him some space.

"It's okay. If you don't want to right now, that's okay." She moved away from the couch and turned back towards Jim laying a hand on his shoulder before turning once more to look at the small family. "It's nice meeting you, John. I'm just going to go check on the bread." She quickly walked towards the kitchen, her head reeling with a thousand thoughts and not able to process a single one just yet.

As she checked the bread, finding it done, and then stirred the stew turning the heat down under the boiling pot she found her thoughts drifting back to broken, little family still in the living room.

God, what had happened to them? What would make a father bring his two sons into this kind of life? And they were so _young_? But those eyes? She'd seen younger eyes on some _forty_ year olds.

Part of her wept for the innocence lost and yet another part couldn't help but feel pride at how fiercely Dean had clung to his family through everything.

If only everyone could love with that much intensity.

She took a deep breath trying to pull her thoughts together and pulled two more bowls from the cabinet. As she turned back towards the table, she gave a slight yelp and had to scramble not to drop the bowls on the floor. "Oh, Dean, you scared me," she breathed still trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

The boy was standing in the doorway looking at her with hesitant eyes and she tried to smile.

"It's okay. Did you want something to eat?"

He just looked at her with those big eyes and then nodded.

"Okay, do you want to eat in here?"

Dean looked back over his shoulder slightly but then nodded his head and stepped a little closer to the table.

Melinda truly smiled at this and set the bowls down by the stove and started dishing stew into them. Not too much for Dean not sure how much he would eat, and then a good sized portion for herself. She carefully carried the bowls back to the table sitting the smaller one down in front of Dean. She then sliced the cornbread and buttered it before bringing it to the table on a small plate.

Dean sat quietly, his legs folded under him to make him tall enough for the table, eating his stew with small, tentative bites. Though he never looked up at Melinda, he kept an eye on her none the less.

Melinda, for her part, just kept quiet and ate her stew. She could tell this would be something she would have to work on but for now she could let it be. At least this was a start.

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A/N: Thanks again for reading I hoped you liked it. A little longer for since it took so long to update. Let me know what you think by sending me a review. I'd love to hear what you think. And I promise it won't be so long between updates this time. Until later.


	6. Hope

SO IT BEGINS

Chapter 6: "Hope"

Summary: So how did John become the great hunter that we all know and love today? And did he really want to have his sons involved?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: First of all, I apologize for the extremely long time between updates. I've been trying to not make it so long, but with work and everything it's a little impossible. Also, thank you thank you thank for reading and reviewing. It makes me want to keep writing. So…I guess I should get on with the show. Hope you like it.

A/N2: Okay, once again Present Day in this story means November, 1984. Thus, a year after Mary was killed by the demon.

Spoilers: Um….not sure exactly. Not too many really. I may fudge on the timeline a little but I'll try and hold as close as possible. By the way, thank you _Super-wiki _website for the awesome timeline aspect. If you don't know about this site, go check it out. Lots of info about the show. www(dot)supernaturalwiki(dot)com

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April 18th, 1984 – Cold Spring, MN

_Thunk…Snick…Thunk…Snick…_

John gave a slight grimace and then headed towards the wooden bulls eye he had been throwing knives at for the past hour.

His arm throbbed slightly as he flexed his hand and knew that he should probably stop before too long. The muscles felt tight and twitchy from the constant, unfamiliar use of trying to throw the knife and he knew that his arm would be pretty sore later because of the training.

It wasn't that he hadn't ever thrown a knife before, he had learned how to throw knives when he was in the Marines; but after getting out of the service and then being married for years, he'd become a little rusty.

He pulled the knife out of the wooden target again with a slightly sucking snick and then lightly tossed the knife in his hands as he backed away again.

It had been almost a month since they had arrived at Jim's, and since then John had been immersing himself in the learning of hunting. Latin, exorcisms, wards, supernatural lore he was learning it all. And to say the least, it was a little overwhelming.

It hadn't been easy learning exactly what all was out there that went bump in the night, and the thought of adding werewolves, ghosts, and shapeshifters to the list of things that could possibly hurt his sons made him cling even tighter to his remaining family even as he learned the best way to protect them.

He threw the knife again and watched it hit with a resounding thunk just left of the bulls eye. _Damn. _He gave a tired sigh and walked back towards the target.

At least having some place stable for the boys to stay was helping to calm his paranoia a little. He smiled slightly at the thought of his Sammy the other day playing with his brother and Melinda. The sound of his giggle as she had tickled his tummy had done a lot to ease the sorrow he carried in his heart.

He pulled the knife from the wood again and rubbed at his sore shoulder as he walked back across the garage.

Having gotten up well before dawn because he was unable to sleep anymore, he had decided to come out here to put in some time training and to try and relieve some of his tension. Between his nightmares and the tugging questions of whether he could really do this hunting thing, he hadn't gotten much sleep lately. Besides, there was always work to do.

John had been impressed when Jim had shown him the large detached garage that he had been made, with the help of some other hunters of course, into a make-shift training room/garage. He had said that each new hunter that came to him had added something to the area and John's contribution so far was the knife-throwing area.

Looking down at the knife in his hand, he couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over him. It was one of the few things that he had found amongst the ashes of the house and had wanted to keep when he had left the house and finally Lawrence behind. It was basically the only thing he had left from that time of his life except for his boys.

His boys. Two complete opposites in every way possible, John knew that neither one could ever exist without the other. Unlike Sam, Dean wasn't doing so well.

John growled in frustration at the thought and turned quickly and threw the knife in one fluid motion. The blade hit the edge of the target and zinged off into the protective netting before falling to the floor with a dusty plop. John sagged a little and gave a tired sigh.

John couldn't help but worry about his eldest son. Not once since that night had Dean said a word. Sure, he would wake up screaming with nightmares but other than that…not one word. Jim had talked about maybe sending him to get some help, but John worried about what if he _had _seen what had happened to his mother. What would a 'professional' think about that? No, he couldn't take the chance. It would pass in time. He hoped.

No, the one thing that worried him the most though, was Dean's almost primal _need_ to be within eye sight of his family at all times. Especially Sammy.

They all knew that Dean was very protective of his brother, but after a while it almost became second nature to see Dean wherever Sammy was. But they hadn't really realized how strong that need was until not too long ago.

It had been just last week that without thinking, Melinda had taken Sammy to the bathroom to clean him up after supper while Dean had been out of the room; and when Dean had returned to find Sam gone he had almost had a panic attack. John didn't think he would ever forget the look on Dean's face as he had realized that Sam wasn't there.

That night, there had been no use in even _attempting_ to separate Dean from his brother even when it had come time for bed. John had finally just stretched out on his bed with Dean nestled against his chest and Sam nestled in Dean's arms before the stark fear that had been in Dean's eyes even began to fade.

Needless to say, they always made sure Dean knew where Sam was after that.

John picked up his knife from where it fell and then stilled as he more felt than heard something shift within the shadows of the building. Tightening his grip on the small knife, he turned towards the possible noise. His hearing sharpened as his heart beat increase.

"Who's there?"

Nothing moved but he could tell someone or some_thing_ was there.

"Come out. Now," his voice turned cold and he tensed not sure what to expect.

When a tousled head of blonde hair peaked out from behind a crate, John almost flinched in surprise.

"Dean?" he asked his voice immediately softening with surprise and love. He looked to the side door that stood almost ten feet away from where the boy now stood and wondered how he got there without him knowing about it. "How? Wh-what are you doing out here? Where's your brother?"

Dean looked up at him slightly and then back towards the door as if uncertain what to do and John softened his stance even more.

"Hey, kiddo, come here."

Dean hesitated for only a second before quickly heading over to his Dad who scooped him up and whisked them over to a table and chairs that had been set up in the far corner.

After sitting down and situating Dean on his lap, the little boy leaned into his Dad's chest and put his head just below his chin letting one hand get tangled in his t-shirt. John wrapped an arm around his slight form and breathed deeply letting his eyes fall closed. They just sat that way for a moment, both father and son taking comfort in the other before John opened his eyes and leaned so he could look down at Dean's turned face. "Couldn't sleep?"

Dean's grip just tightened slightly and he leaned a little closer to his Dad's warmth.

John just sighed and ran a hand through the soft blonde hair. "It's okay. I couldn't either."

Dean hesitated for a second longer before he finally leaned back and looked up at his Daddy's face with big green eyes taking in everything about his Dad before he finally relinquished his grip on his Dad's shirt and nudged him to let know he wanted down.

John set him on the floor and then watched as he looked around slowly, once in a while, running his hand over something before moving onto the next. As he watched, John could see the curiosity that flickered in his eyes as they seemed to take in everything. "You ever been out here before, Sport?" John asked still watching from his chair as Dean shook his head absently as he studied an engine part that had been left out on one of the work benches before moving on to the next thing.

Finally making his way to the wooden bulls eye, he studied the holes that had been made by the knife's blade.

John watched as his little fingers reached up to poke at the scarred wood and an idea came to him. "Hey, let me show you something," he got up watching as Dean turned towards him with quizzical eyes and John walked over to him before getting down on his knees so he was at Dean's eye level.

As he settled down on his haunches, he pulled the knife he had been throwing out in front of him and held it up for the boy to look at. "You see this? This is a Columbia River AG Russell Sting. It's a boot knife. That means that you can stick it in your shoe. Like this." John pulled his leg forward so that he could holster the knife in its sheath and then brought it out again.

Dean's eyes roamed over the sleek piece of metal following its curves and angles with his eyes before looking up at John with questioning eyes.

"You wanna hold it?"

Dean's eyes lit up at the idea and he gave an enthusiastic nod before looking back down at the blade.

"Okay, just be careful. It's really sharp."

Dean nodded again, and then reached for the handle slowly, almost tentatively. His little hand wrapped around the hilt and then lifted it away from his Dad's hands. It was heavier than it looked but seemed like it almost fit him perfectly as Dean turned it slowly every which way studying the black blade in the light.

"What do you think? Do you like it?"

Dean nodded a little more enthusiastically and John thought he could see the ghost of a smile cross his lips for the first time in a long time.

"Maybe I'll teach you how to throw it when you get a little older."

Dean looked up at him then and he could see the possibility of hope dance there before they drifted back to the knife and a little responding smile crossed his lips. He finally started to hand the blade back and John stopped him.

"Here," John said and then proceeded to pull the sheath from his boot and slid it on the blade that was still in Dean's hand. "Keep it."

Dean looked up at him and John could see a plethora of emotions cross the tiny face but the most prominent seemed to ask…_Why?_

"I want you to have it," John said tightening his grip slightly before looking down at the blade and then back up at Dean with a sad look. "It used to be your Mom's."

Dean's eyes got about as big as saucers and he looked down at the blade again subconsciously pulling it closer to him as his grip tightened on it also.

John gave a sad smile and swallowed back the well of emotions that tried to take him over at the mention of Mary. "Do you know I once saw her use this to kill a rat?"

Dean shook his head but didn't look up.

"She did. It was shortly after you were born and we were living in a dingy, little house that wasn't that great. We'd told the landlord we could hear skritching in the walls but he didn't believe us. But, one night, we had put you down for bed and your Mom was doing dishes when she saw this rat. A big, fat thing heading for your room."

Dean was watching him now and he could see the fascination in his eyes as he listened to John's story drinking in every detail.

"I could hear her give a little gasp and I looked up to see her pull this knife from under her jeans and throw it. At first, I wasn't sure what she had done but then I saw the rat."

Tears were brimming in Dean's eyes and John knew that there was the same in his eyes as he reached forward to cup Dean's face in his hand. "She saved you."

Tears began to fall from Dean's eyes and his lower lip quivered slightly as he gave his Dad a sad smile.

"So," John had to swallow hard against the tears. "I want you to have this. Okay?"

Dean just nodded as he swallowed hard against his own tears. _His Mommy had done that?_ He looked down at the knife and then threw his arms around his Dad giving him a big hug.

John almost fell over not expecting the sudden hug but managed to catch himself and wrapped his arms around his boy feeling the silent sobs that wracked his small frame. "Oh, shh, it's okay. Shh. It's okay."

Dean nodded into his Dad's shoulder and just held on tighter.

When Jim finally ventured out to the garage later that morning looking for the missing boy, he found father and son discussing what a carburetor was and where it went as they both stood in front of the Impala. The eldest leaning over the engine while the other stood on tiptoe on top of an empty crate, both of them peering into the engine's depths with curious eyes.

Jim just gave a sigh of relief and smiled as he backed out of the door not wanting to disturb the precious father/son bonding moment.

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**NOW-- SOMEWHERE UNKNOWN**

Dean was drifting somewhere between sleep and awake. He was just at that point where he was slightly aware of his surroundings, but not quite ready to wake. Feeling the warm line of his brother sleeping next to him settled something inside him and for the moment he was content to stay where he was secure in the knowledge that he knew where his brother was.

He was beginning to slip back into sleep when he a door open and then a little while later felt the bed dip slightly. A warm hand rested on his head and he turned towards it slightly.

"Dean…time to wake up." The soft feminine voice of his mother whispered to him.

Dean shifted towards the touch relishing in the smell and touch that he remembered so well and hoped that it wouldn't disappear.

"Come on, honey, wake up."

A frown creased his calm features slightly as he fought against the waking world knowing that as soon as he woke up she would be gone. He'd had several dreams of his mother since that night and was always sad to realize that it was only a dream when he woke.

"Dean," his Mom said again and shook him gently.

Not wanting to, but never able to not do anything his Mom asked of him, he started to wake. Turning on his side towards her he slowly opened his eyes and blinked sleepy eyes to bring her into focus.

Impossibly black eyes stared back at him from a stranger's face framed by black hair and he gave a startled gasp and twisted away from her touch.

The strange woman just watched him move away and began to laugh. "Oh, what's the matter Dean? Bad dream?" she asked with a snicker as her eyes turned back to a startling blue color surrounded by white instead of black.

Dean scrambled to a sitting position knocking against Sammy in the process and glanced back at his brother before trying to push him behind his back to shield him from the stranger.

"De?" Sam asked in confusion as he tried to figure out why he had been so rudely awakened but knew that something wasn't right from how his big brother was tugging on him to move back and then he saw the strange lady.

"Good. Now that you're both awake. I think it's time we had a little chat," the woman said as she smoothed out a crease in the bedding before looking back up at them with a hard eyes.

As Dean continued to stare at her, all he could think of was how he could have thought she was his mom and suddenly he was mad.

"Oh," she said and then let a wicked little smile twist her lips as she noticed Dean's angry expression. "You're a feisty one aren't you? That'll be good to know for later."

When Dean just gave her a quizzical look she just smiled even more.

"Oh, what's the matter, Dean? Can't figure out why I took you?"

Dean could pretty much guess, but he didn't want to scare Sammy anymore than he already was.

"Well, let's just say that I've got bigger fish to catch and you two will make the perfect bait."

Sam tightened his grip on Dean's shirt a little more and gave a little whimper and buried his head in Dean's back. He didn't like this lady and wished she'd go away.

Dean just continued to stare at her but his hand gave Sam's leg a little squeeze of comfort.

Delilah took all this in and just chuckled slightly under her breath. "Oh, this is just…too good. But I think we'll have to work on making you two a little more _vocal_…before your Daddy comes for you."

Dean instantly tensed at the mention of his Dad and Sammy pulled his face out of Dean's shirt. "Daddy?" he asked hopefully.

"That's right, kid. I'm gonna make _sure_ your Dad finds you. And then I'm gonna make him watch while I take from him what he took from me," she added the last in bitterness and Sam could tell that she was really angry.

"Now, there are only a few rules. And believe me when I say, if you don't follow them you _will_ be in trouble." She made sure both boys were paying attention before continuing. "First: don't try to escape. If you do, I will find you and when I do you will regret even trying. Two: you will do as I say or there _will_ be pain. So if I ask you to jump, you better ask how high." She then looked directly at Dean. "And don't think that the pain will be just for you." She slid her eyes over to Sam and then back to Dean and waited until her words sunk in.

Dean finally swallowed hard before and nodded that he understood. Delilah knew that Dean wouldn't do anything that could jeopardize his brother's well-being.

Sam watched his brother for a moment and then nodded slowly meet the lady's eyes for only a moment before turning back towards his brother.

"Good," she said happily and sat back with a nonchalant smile on her face. "Now that that's out of the way, I brought you some breakfast." She motioned to the tray of food sitting by the door: a box of cereal and some milk and nothing more. "Sorry, there are no spoons or bowls. Didn't want to give you any ideas."

Dean just looked at her and she could see the suspicion in his eyes.

"Oh don't worry. It's fine. I can't have my bait dying from hunger before I try to catch the big fish now can I?" She gave a wicked smile and then turned to leave the room. Just before leaving she turned back to the boys still sitting on the bed. "I'll be back in a couple hours, and you had better have eaten some of that by then."

Dean continued to watch her as she closed the door and could feel Sammy pull even closer to him as the door shut and the lock slid into place.

"De?" Sammy said with a little quaver of fear in his voice.

Dean reached around to pull him into his arms and rubbed his hand down Sam's arms as he tried to think of what to do next. He couldn't try to get away because they might hurt Sammy, but he also knew that they couldn't stay there. The lady wanted to his Daddy to come and get them and Dean knew that wouldn't be good.

Sam's tummy took that moment to give a loud growl, and both boys exchanged a surprised look. Sammy then blushed slightly before looking away in embarrassment. "Sor-wy," he said softly.

Dean just bit his lip and then started for the edge of the bed.

"De? " Sam asked curious what his brother was doing. Peering over the edge of the bed, he followed his brother's movements as he padded over towards the tray of food.

Dean carefully picked up the box tucking it under one arm before picking up the jug of milk. He smelled it before carefully climbing to his feet and turning back towards the bed. He hesitated for a moment not sure how he was going to get up on the bed and not spill the milk, but then an idea came to him and he walked around to the far side of the bed and settled down on the floor between the bed and the wall.

He motioned for Sam to join him and then watched as his brother scrambled down off the bed making sure that he wouldn't tip the milk over as Sam's little feet came down off the bed. Once Sammy was seated on the floor, Dean worked on opening the box of cereal and then the plastic bag within that struggling slightly with the tight seal.

The seal suddenly gave way tearing the bag and he clumsily tried to keep the cereal from going everywhere. A few pieces flew up in the air before landing in Sam's hair and both boys sat there for a moment in shocked silence before Sam shook his head letting the pieces fly. He then looked up at Dean with a big smile on his face and giggled.

Dean couldn't help the grin that spread across his face and he gave a soft chuckle before reaching into the box to pull out a few pieces of cereal and popping them in his mouth. He chewed carefully as he watched Sam pull a few out himself and munched happily.

At least Sammy was okay for right now. But he also knew that it would last for long. Dean frowned slightly as he thought about what the lady had said. He had been hoping their Daddy would find them, but not if it meant his Daddy might get hurt. He would just have to find some way to get away without getting caught.

"De!" Sam exclaimed happily and Dean looked up to see Sam pull the small plastic toy that was usually hidden in the bottom of the box as if it were the greatest thing and Dean just smiled as he took the toy to unwrap it for his brother.

Of course, Dean knew that their Daddy was way too smart to fall for anything the lady could come up with. So for now, he wouldn't worry…too much.

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A/N: There it is. Let me know what you think by reviewing. I'd like to know what you think either way. Next chapter will show John and the others and we should get to see how Melinda's doing too. Until then.


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